The House That Built Me

I thought if I could touch this place or feel it
this brokenness inside me might start healing.
Out here its like I'm someone else,
I thought that maybe I could find myself.
If I could just come in I swear I'll leave.
Won't take nothing but a memory
from the house that built me.

You leave home, you move on and you do the best you can.
I got lost in this whole world and forgot who I am.

I thought if I could touch this place or feel it
this brokenness inside me might start healing.
Out here its like I'm someone else,
I thought that maybe I could find myself.
If I could walk around I swear I'll leave.
Won't take nothing but a memory
from the house that built me.

I don’t think any song has ever hit home like this song from Miranda Lambert.  The title alone brings tears to my eyes.  As we are planning to leave Az, I cant help but walk down memory lane.  Some good, some bad, some tragic…and some I don’t ever want to revisit.  I was in my father’s house this past weekend, and as I was walking through it I was touching the walls just trying to bring back some memories. It was like I was watching a movie and the memories came flooding in.  As I walked down the hallway I was overcome with emotion because I was praying that God would allow me to feel my brother Jason. As I walked into his old bedroom, it was like time had stood still and I was 10 years old again.  Jason’s life was fast and furious, as was his death.  I remembered an old childhood memory, Jason would come into my room at night (we were supposed to be sleeping) and we would talk about what we wanted to be when we grew up, I always wanted to be a wife and mother, and he would tell me how he wanted to be a pro basketball player with the Chicago Bulls.  I will never understand why I was granted my dream and he never got his.  I guess that’s another blog for another time.  I miss that kid so much, I miss his laugh, I miss the way he would poke me in the back of my head, just to drive me crazy. Jason is gone, but is remembered every day.   

Back to the house that built me, As I walked into my old pink bedroom, I was reminded that my mother has left my father.  It was as if the past 30 years of her life were packed away, like unclaimed memories. She has decided to move on and make new memories.   My childhood was not the greatest, but everything I went through shaped who I am today.  The one thing that has been stable throughout my life has been that old house.  It makes me sad that my children don’t and wont have a house they can go back to and see hand prints on the wall.  That was until I realized that we are raising our children to love God, and love people.  Our relationship with Jesus is more valuable than any house, and if we are serving him then that is our home. Jesus the son of God did not have a home here on earth, He had something much greater than anything this earth could offer, he has a place in Heaven, sitting at the right hand of the father.  Our life here is so temporary, and eternity is a hard concept to grasp…but that is what we are trying to grasp.  Our eternal home, with our eternal father.  Knowing this brings me peace that nothing else here on earth can bring me.  Our home is with God, the creator of all things…Holy Cow our home is with God.  This is what I want my children to understand, people will come and go, they will hurt us, leave us and move on.  Were we sleep at night will change from time to time and possibly year to year, But God will never leave us, nothing can separate us from his love and that is more than any house can do for us.  As we move to Maryland to share this good news, we will probably live in several different houses.  And each house we leave will have different memories for all of us to cherish or maybe even forget about.  But the one constant home we will all have is our love for one another and our passion as a family to serve Jesus Christ.