Leaning into Fantasy

Posted on February 4, 2013 by Margaret

A dear friend from our old Illinois neighborhood called and left a message the other day. “I have some news for you.”

Nate and I moved from there 4 years ago this month, selling our home after having had it on the market for over 4 years. But it took us about that long to get used to the idea of moving anyway. After living there nearly 30 years, it was tough to leave, but we loved the much-smaller cottage we were moving to in Michigan, a beach community that had been our family’s gathering place for 3 generations.

When I re-called my neighbor she said, “Would you like to move back to the neighborhood? Your old house is up for sale!”

That was about the last thing I’d expected to hear. The mid-20’s couple who’d bought our 6 bedrooms had planned to fill the rooms with children, and in the last 3 years had had 2 of them. Hearing that they wanted to move was a big surprise.

Our family had loved living in that century-old farmhouse with its secret closet, 2 stairways, strange attic, and other unique features, so my neighbor’s question was tempting. Move back to my old friends? Our beloved church and pastor? Shopping areas that were 1 mile away instead of 25?

It was a delicious thought.

But later, when Birgitta, Nelson, and I talked it through, the reality wasn’t as tasty. For one thing, Nate wouldn’t be there. He and I had done life together in that home, from weathering storms to bringing new babies there. Without him, that houseful of memories would seem empty and sad. And of course I don’t need such big digs.

Whether we like it or not, time keeps marching forward, and circumstances change, some for the good, some for the bad. We can’t go backwards hoping to recreate what we had. If what we had wasn’t good, we don’t mind. But if it was, we have to firmly deal with ourselves to make sure we don’t yearn for something that can’t be ours.

God’s counsel on this is to be future-focused, “forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before.” (Philippians 4:13) In that same passage Paul says, “Our conversation is in heaven.” (v. 20,KJV)

Living and belonging there will be more important than anything we’ve known here, and it’s all still in front of us. Leaning backwards to recapture something that can’t possibly compare with what’s ahead is to set ourselves up for a big letdown.

And so, after we took a visual tour of our old house on Zillow.com, we stopped entertaining the idea of living there again and began listing the many reasons we’re glad God put us exactly where he did.

“Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead,I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 3:13-14)

On the Move

Posted on October 5, 2011 by Margaret

Fall is a season of change. Children go back to school, college co-eds head back to campus, and many young adults sign new apartment leases. Each change involves packing up, rearranging all things familiar and, in some cases, making a major move.

Last week my sister and brother-in-law joined the relocation parade by moving from their suburban home of 40 years to downtown Chicago.

The buyer of their 5000+ square foot house was a young couple with a toddler and baby. After hunting in the area for a year, they toured Bervin and Mary’s home and fell in love with it the first time through. We puzzled over why such a small family would commit to such a large house, but gradually the pieces came together.

The young mother, on her second visit, made mention of the “Christian energy” throughout the rooms, commenting on the peaceful atmosphere. “It’s just what we’ve been looking for,” she said. Her husband asked if they could buy the 3’ X 4’ framed Scripture verse hanging over the front door: “Know thou the God of thy father, and serve him with a perfect heart and with a willing mind.”

At the real estate closing, the reason they chose a large home became clear. The buyers handed Mary a note of gratitude and described how they felt called to help missionaries and planned to use their extra rooms for that purpose.

It can be a challenge to leave the home where you’ve raised 7 children, but when the process became difficult, the testimony of these young buyers made it easier. As Mary said, “I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have living in our home.”

Last summer Bervin and Mary offered housing to missionaries from Ireland. This family of 6 needed a place to stay for a month, and also needed a car. Bervin and Mary gave a thumbs-up to both requests, proving to be good examples of the scriptural instruction hanging in their entry. Their buyers will continue in this vein.

All of us can look back on multiple moves, and it’s a good idea to search for God’s plan in the progression; sometimes it’s as plain as an architect’s blueprint. Over four decades of time, because of Mary and Bervin’s willingness to serve, God used their home for his purposes in hundreds of ways. As they left that address, he moved along with them and is preparing a fresh blueprint with plans for use of their new home.

Yesterday Louisa and her cousin Marta made a move of their own, from their family homes to an apartment just north of the Loop. After unloading cars and pickups full of boxes, bins and beds, we gathered in their small living room and Bervin prayed, inviting God’s involvement in their new home.

And we know the Lord is ready with the perfect blueprint for two 20-somethings living in the heart of Chicago.

“Know thou the God of thy father, and serve him with a perfect heart and with a willing mind. If thou seek him, he will be found of thee.” (1 Chronicles 28:9)

A Secret Society

Posted on April 27, 2011 by Margaret

Although some people designate the month of April for spring cleaning, at my house we’re making messes.

When Nate and I moved into this cottage full time in June of 2009, the house was ready for a face lift. Its colors were the same ones we registered at the Marshall Fields bridal registry in 1969: psychedelic oranges, yellows, and greens. After we got married, we stuck with that color scheme for about two years, but the Michigan house was stuck there still.

Our 2009 summer as new Michigan residents was a mixed blessing. We were glad to be here, but Nate’s back was bothering him intensely. Neither of us knew that very soon we would learn of his cancer, and our plans would be permanently altered.

But before all that, I remember an evening when the two of us sat amidst the boxes and talked of fixing up the house. I was all about paint and throw rugs, but he was thinking bigger. He saw new windows, air conditioning, fresh siding, even a larger kitchen.

About a year after Nate died, I was finally ready to begin on the plans we’d made together. We painted the rooms and laid down the throw rugs. At Christmas time we tackled the windows. This month our goal was to get rid of the last of the musty cottage smell by way of pulling up the wild orange, yellow and red carpeting in the sunroom. Because of former roof leaks and wobbly floors, everything beneath the carpet had to go, too, an interesting combination of several layers of wood.

After the floor had been rebuilt and prepped for tile, Drew started on the back stairs. As he pulled up the old, carpeted boards one by one, an odd-shaped space beneath the stairway and its two landings became exposed to light for the first time. Although we found storage bins that had been shoved into that small area, daylight illuminated what had been a secret.

A cramped, dark place we thought had been useless has actually been of great use to quite a few others. Sweeping between the stair supports, I found a stash belonging to chipmunks, carefully stacked piles of dry dog food. Spider webs decorated every corner, many of them occupied, and mice had used the area as a bathroom.

When I came to a cluster of acorns, I wondered if Little Red and his squirrel-pals had somehow snuck in there, too. And all this while we’d been upstairs, blissfully unaware of the secret society below us.

As I swept, I thought of my own secret places where tiny sins can move in and live without me noticing. That’s the way Satan wants it, quiet and ignored, until a secret society of sins has taken up residence. By the time I become aware of the neighborhood of nasties I’ve overlooked, it ends up to be a major eviction project.

While Drew continues to make a springtime “mess” toward home improvement, it might be good for me to do some internal spring cleaning… right after I call the exterminator.

“How can I know all the sins lurking in my heart? Cleanse me from these hidden faults.” (Psalm 19:12)