My Life - My House 


My life is comparable to the houses I have lived in.  

As a child, the house seemed so large, and so solid.  The walls were so much taller than I, that it never occurred to me that not all walls are as high.  It was not a thing I worried about.  The doors were just there- ways to get into other rooms, or go from inside to outside and back again.   They could be open or closed with a simple maneuver, that I never worried about.  Of course they opened and closed- isn't that what doors are for?  

And the windows were almost magic.  They were like the wall, but I could see what was on the other side.  Sometimes, they too could be opened up and climbed in and out of.  And when they were open, the wonderful sounds of outside came creeping in.








Every house we lived in was different, and the rooms seemed a tad bit smaller as I grew older.  The doors were a little more important then too.  Closed doors were not very welcome to me, and some rooms were not as special as others.   But in every house, the kitchen was my favorite.  I loved the smell of cooking, and helping my mom cook- and eventually being able to do most of it on my own.   It was a LONG time before I realized that the cooking was work too, just as doing the dishes was!  We entertained in our kitchen.  Many guests ate at our table.  Many of my friends came to eat all through my growing up years.  More laughter was heard in the kitchen than any other room in our house.  I even chose this room to do my homework, when the time came.  Somehow, sitting at the kitchen table made it seem less like school work, and more like play.


In my own home now, I am aware of the height of the walls, and the smooth closing of a door, and which windows open well , etc.  I am an adult now, and the wonder of many things has escaped me.  As I remember it now through my granddaughter's eyes and ears, I am amazed how much I have forgotten.  I had forgotten how much I loved the kitchen, but I see it in her as we sit at the table to color or play with play dough, or read a book.  I hear it in her laughter when we cook together, and even when she helps with the dishes.  






And my life is much like that.  I have forgotten the wonder of being a child myself, and envy it in the small children.  I had forgotten how exciting it was to have company, and how it didn't matter if they stayed the night- there is always room to a child!  Especially for someone special!  Why, we would never think twice about letting some special guest sleep in our bedroom, while we camped out o the floor in another room.  Those were exciting times!

And now as an adult very aware of these changes, I read a  story with different eyes and a changed heart.  The story is a familiar one, but there is one part that now hits me very close to home.

So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David.   He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child.   While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born,   and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son.  She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.
(Luke 2:4-7)

The real question is, am I so calloused and hard and blind? 

How many times has Christ come to me through another person in need? 





How many times have I turned Him away from the door to my life, because I saw only another person bothering me? 

How many times did I see Him and only saw another person crowding my life?! 

How many times did I close the door to Him thinking I was through with my work for the day?

 How often did I not see Him outside the window of my soul looking in for a place to abide?


Oh, my God, how many times have you camped outside my world in all your glory for all the world to see, and I never saw you?  How I wish I could go back to those times and fling the door wide open, prepare you a meal and invite everyone I see to come eat with you!!!  Of course there is always room in my "home" - take my bed, and let me camp out on the floor at your feet!  Open my eyes to your presence and open my heart so I may see you as a child again!  Take away my "adult" busyness and teach me to again see the wonder of it all!  Let me see the work you give me as exciting and not drudgery.  Let me never again think any task is too menial to be important for you.  Forgive me for being the innkeeper with no room.  I open my life - my heart home - to you.  Come in and abide here!!!

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