It began with the windows, enticing me in…tall and unusual for a 1940’s house. Freezing inside, the power had been turned off for some time. It’s story stalled and stagnant. A fancy stair way with missing ballasts… I loved it from the start.
The move was gritty and cold and full of people with open hands ready to help. We turned quite a corner–we knew it was right. My husband plunged into work, hanging doors and smoothing broken places.
He is brave, my man.
A misplaced slab? He dug it out and heaved it away.
I probably would have been lazy enough to leave it there for years to come. Plant a quaint herb garden around it. Easily satisfied. And would have missed what was hidden beneath.
Sometimes we don’t know what’s right under our noses. But we have the faith to stand where we’re told. To bend and tug when prompted…
Resting beneath the slab lay a patch of brick, muddy and old, a diagonal basket weave…
He shoveled along its lines, inspired. Maybe there’s more, maybe not.
I’d already been suspecting the age listed for this house was wrong. 1940 couldn’t be right.
Every day he shoveled, every day, more aged brick appeared…
And a path lay before us, towards home, of course. Was there all the time, but hidden, waiting…
With Christ in our hearts, we look to our feet–the path we take, the one He calls us on, and wonder. Yes, dear follower, you stand on holy ground. His path, well, it leads us HOME eventually. And it’s better than we can imagine.
Like my house. I’m a bit giddy over the news. I’ve been attracted to 1880’s everything for quite a while, right down to the stories I pen.
My father and brother just confirmed it, old home historians that they are. As soon as they stepped through my doorway, their heads began to shake and my smile grew bigger. 1880-90’s. No later than that.
I had the feeling the whole time that I was living in my element. Now my dreams and stories are running wild and I’ve scarcely the time to get it all down.
Once upon 1880, a darling family lived here in the whisper of time allotted to them…
There is much to cultivate and restore. That’s okay by me. All in good time. I do wonder, though, how many more discoveries we’ll make?