THIS OLD HOUSE

Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.  II Corinthians 4:16 (NIV)

 

 

The workmen are at it again.  This time they’re stripping off rotten wood siding and trim and lattice work.  Some are painting; some are nailing; some are measuring and sawing.  Living in a house that’s over 100 years old has its own special charm, but it also is terribly demanding, and maintenance is high on the list of priorities.  Last year it was the kitchen when the plumbing erupted; the year before was an upgrade for my bedroom space.  Now I have to attend to the exterior.

Years ago there was a country song that was all about old houses:  This Old House by Stuart Hamlin and recorded by Mel Tillis.  It mentioned all the things the house had been through—storms, darkness, lightning, night winds—but went on to say that the old house wouldn’t be needed much longer.  The song writer was getting ready to meet the saints.

Paul talked a bit about houses when he mentioned having a treasure in an earthen vessel (II Corinthians 4:7), a fragile dwelling place.  We know that treasure, our eternal life in Christ Jesus who dwells within us, continues on no matter the condition of our mortal bodies.

I find that thought comforting in this transient environment that can bring daily challenges to us all:  a child becomes ill; an elderly person falls and breaks a bone; a teenager tears a meniscus; automobile accidents result in injuries.  And though our temporal housing, our body, may suffer and even deteriorate, our eternal life in Christ Jesus is being renewed every single day.

Pains and aches, no matter how severe, do not touch our relationship with our Lord.  Living by faith in his promises, rejoicing in his nearness, and trusting his grace can always lift us beyond the here and now.  In suffering we move confidently into his presence and ask him to hide us (Psalm 32:7) from the storm ravaging our body for the moment.  We rest steadfast in him, knowing that pain and distress are only temporary while he is eternal.

Never will he leave us, and when it’s time to move on from the patched-up house we’ve inhabited for a while, we have the assurance that our heavenly home will be maintenance-free.  And our eternal self will be forever liberated from the shell that demands so much attention.

 

Father, keep me focused on you and not the physical ailments that sometimes tempt me to get obsessed with them.  Thank you that these aches remind me that I am made for eternity and will some day be set free to live forever with you.  Meanwhile, help me to use suffering for your divine purposes.  In Jesus’ name.  AMEN.

MAINTENANCE

 

…mine own vineyard have I not kept.  Song of Solomon 1:6  (KJV)

“Come on, we’re going on a field trip,” the bishop announced as he pulled staff members out of their offices.  The rains have been abundant this spring, and so avoiding the many puddles would be part of the adventure as we headed out the door.

We all walked cautiously down the hill and then traversed the pathway that edged the meadow where children hunt eggs every Easter.  We passed by patches of iris that were standing in water, on through stands of Mountain Laurel that had already bloomed, and then made our descent to the springs—the source of the San Antonio River.

When the aquifer fills, the springs burst from the ground and mostly follow their ancient path.  Some spill over onto the meadows creating a bog.  The life-giving source of water has drawn people to this site for thousands of years and was the impetus for settlement of the indigenous Payaya Indians and later the Spanish missionaries.

The sense of history on our sacred grounds is compelling.  Prior to the bequest of the lands to us in the last century, the owner had obviously respected and loved the place where so many had lived and thrived for centuries.  He employed twelve gardeners to maintain the nineteen acres that stretched across the valley and on into the basin.  Besides the native species of plants and trees, Gaucho planted hundreds of azaleas and created a small pond where a boat was moored for an afternoon’s enjoyment.

As we meandered through the soggy grounds, I noticed an overgrown stone walkway climbing the hillside.  And then to our right where terraced cutting beds had lined the walkway, bushes and weeds blotted out all signs of flowers from another day.  The acreage around the old home is lush with naturalistic landscaping, but the farther one roams from the house, invasive plants are obscuring what was once a paradise.  Nothing is static.  Everything has to be maintained.

My practical mother told me of a time she dressed and was headed out the door to do some “good works”.  She said that as she was leaving, she noticed cobwebs on the ceiling of the porch and sensed God telling her she needed to first take care of her own home before she could credibly go out and share Jesus with someone else.  Maintenance.

And so, I’ve been thinking…  Seeing the overgrown beds and walks on our grounds was sad, but it was just a reminder that, while it might be more exciting to get out of the familiar and engage in stimulating ministries, our first obligation is Jerusalem:  our personal relationship with the Lord Jesus and our family and our community.  Solomon’s “beloved” had been busy taking care of the family vineyards, but she hadn’t tended to her own needs (Song of Sol. 1:6).  And Martha was so busy worrying while she worked that she had neglected “the most important thing” (Luke 10:41).  On the other hand, Jesus regularly spent time with his Father, communing and being strengthened by him (Matt. 14:13, Mark 1:35, Mark 6:45, 46, Mark 14:32-34).  Essentially, even our spiritual lives must be maintained.

And that happens through the spiritual disciplines – Bible reading, prayer, and meditation as starters.  To paraphrase the violinist Jascha Heifetz, if I don’t spend intentional time with God one day, I notice it; if I miss two days, my friends notice it; if I miss three days, everyone notices it.  We have to tend our own gardens, spending time with our Father, and then we can go out to work in the fields to which he’s called us.

 

Lord, thank you for speaking to us in our ordinary days through your creation.  Give us ears to hear and feet to obey.  In Jesus our Lord.  AMEN.