A house on our block was torn down a couple days ago. We actually know the family that built it and they were a good, solid, loving family. They sold it years ago and it’s been in many hands since then and because it’s on a gorgeous creek lot, a builder came in and leveled it.

Last week, there was a house here

I’m actually quite sure this was the best decision. The home had a funky layout and was old and may have had foundation issues, as many 70’s era homes in our North Texas neighborhood do. But it made me sad that almost 40 years of memories built in a house could be leveled in literally a couple of hours. That’s right. That’s how long it took them to bulldoze the entire thing. And now, a couple days later, the cleanup is finished and it looks like a completely vacant lot. You’d never know that children were raised there, that lives were changed there, that tears were shed and victories celebrated and toast burned and glasses raised in celebration.

I think about all the time I spend obsessing over my home. I’m not terribly good at the whole decorating thing, but I do like to have nice things around me and for my home to be a welcoming place for our family and friends. I struggle that it’s not picture perfect and with three boys quickly approaching manhood within it’s walls and two dogs the size of small horses, it never will be.

The absolute best compliment I ever received on my home went like this. A friend walked in for the first time and blurted out “wow! What a great place this house must be to grow up in.”

I actually choked up right then and there. Because that was always my goal. Not to have a picture perfect magazine home, but to have a place where Scott and I could raise our three boys in comfort, yes, but mostly with love, and grace and mercy. A safe place to come at the end of a long day dealing with bullys, and hormones, and math tests and worries about their future (and maybe sometimes worries that I was cooking dinner;).

There’s a class I teach at our church about community, and this past Sunday when I asked the question “what are the barriers in your life that keep you from healthy community?” one young woman said “our homes”. I asked her to elaborate and she said that she feels self conscious about their furniture and that they don’t live in a nicer place and she doesn’t want people to judge her.

I shared with her that just recently, my friend from high school posted this on my FB wall “I remember having great dinners at your card table in your first apartment.” And that was over 20 years ago!

The things that happened at that card table, and the conversations that happen in my kitchen or on my stained couch with the chew hole from our puppy can’t be torn down. They can’t be leveled in a matter of a couple of hours. And they can’t be sold or burned or eaten up by moths. They will be with us the rest of our lives and hopefully into eternity.

 “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” Matthew 6:19 – 21

I’m sure a new house will be built on that lot. It will be gorgeous and brand new and a new family will move in filled with hope for the future. And in 40 years it will be old and maybe obsolete and maybe torn down again. But the dreams and the hopes and the I love you’s will remain. So I’m going to focus on that part. And put a throw over the puppy chew hole. And call it good enough.

Now off to my run.

Happy Running. And if you’re having a bad day, or a good day, or a so-so day, watch this. Leading the team that does amazing things like this is what I do for my day job. It’s a pretty magnificent gig and I love them very much. Put in your head phones, watch the whole thing, and be prepared to have your socks blessed right off your amazing feet!

Great I Am-Vox Humana Choir from Irving Bible Church on Vimeo.

Jen