The Heart of The Home

The gust of cold air took my breath away as I turned the key to the little house my grandparents lived in during their golden years. Although I had been inside this quaint home numerous times over the years, I felt almost like an intruder, just knowing that no one had lived there for a year and a half.

As I entered the sunroom, the memories flooded back -- with everything just as I remembered. The chair in the corner, where the sun would keep you toasty - it's where I used to sit to read books as a teenager or to listen to my walkman when I needed an escape for privacy. The plant stands which were once decorated with lovely blooms now sat empty and seemingly without purpose. The photo collage of the grandchildren clearly dated back to the 1980s based on our hairstyles (can you say big hair??)

I quickly passed from the sunroom into the main living room/dining room area and sighed. I expected to see the throw blanket I purchased for Oma Nettie several years ago for Christmas to be perched in it's usual spot on the couch, but it was not there. I made a mental note of that, but as far as I could tell, everything else was exactly as it had always been: the rocking chair, couch, grandfather clock and the walls adorned with the paintings and poems my Opa had created over 20 years ago. (I later found out that the throw blanket was in Long Island with Oma Nettie to keep her warm ... what a joy I felt knowing that in her last days, something I had given to her brought some comfort).

My Aunt had been caring for my grandmother, Oma Nettie, for a year and a half now. About a month ago, my aunt sent me the key to Oma Nettie's house and asked me to just "check in" on it from time to time to make sure there were no problems, leaky faucets, unwanted mail or flyers laying outside. I didn't even think for a moment that I would have any emotions well up during this visit. At this point, my Oma Nettie was very ill and only given a few weeks to live. Even still, being in the house, I could almost hear her gentle voice humming a song, I could see the twinkle in her eye and feel the love and warmth that had always been in this home. Maybe that's what struck me most. The house was not lived in, but yet you can feel the love. Not just the love that my Opa and Oma Nettie had for each other, but the love they extended to EVERYONE they met. Their home was a house where we had prayed for one another for all types of need: healing of cancer, financial issues, job situations, praying for God to bring a Godly spouse to each of us, etc. The list goes on and on.

A house is just a house, but with Christ as the center of it, it's so much more. My prayer is that my home will also be a refuge for not just my son and husband, but for anyone in my family and for future generations that just want to come and be loved and to be in a place where Christ is at the heart of the home. Just like us, God doesn't care what's on the outside..if our home is big and fancy and has been paid off for years, or if it's small and humble and is rented... it's what's inside that counts. What's the heart of your home like??