Day 3 – This Ol’ House

I remember watching lots of shows on PBS as a kid. Even after we got cable, I still recall being glued to the TV watching Sesame Street and Electric Company as a means of supplementing my public school education. I also loved shows where creativity and problem-solving converged like Painting With Bob Ross, Justin Wilson’s cooking show, and This Old House.

By far, my all-time favorite was This Old House. You might be wondering why a kid under the age of 10 would enjoy that show. Well, the simple answer is that I lived in an old house that was likely held together by a lot of wishing and hoping and praying—especially during hurricane season. I figured that if I learned a few things from that show, I might be able to turn our old Shotgun-style shack into something beautiful. With hindsight being 20/20, I now see that Father God was already transforming the house from the inside out.

I learned years later that an amateur builder cobbled together this house for his family. His intentions were good, but his vision was short-sighted. Similarly, when you start a family or a business, your heart is in the right place, and you do your best, but you don’t have all the answers. That’s why it’s necessary to consult the true Builder and Creator for a vision and continued guidance.

I always knew our home’s builder was an amateur because of all the things that were missing—too few electrical outlets, small bedrooms, too few cabinets, and squeaky floors at the back of the house that prompted little Michelle to tiptoe from the kitchen to the home’s only bathroom for fear of falling through the floor. Thank God none of us ever breached the sloping floors, but again, wishing and hoping and praying was the recipe for keeping us above ground. It’s actually a miracle that our old rental never imploded, but it did seem to sink into the ground almost as an anchor to that particular spot to ensure that we had a place to stay for as long as the Lord allowed.

The front of the house was a lot sturdier. I used to sit on the porch and daydream about all the ways I might make this world a better place for all the little girls and boys who lived in substandard housing like me but still enjoyed life and were able to just be kids. I dreamed of opening a little country school where my students would learn to dream and tap into the Divine for witty inventions that would make our world better. Some of those little girl’s dreams are still floating through that ramshackle house — waiting for a new family to see the treasure within the heap on West Jeff Davis Street.

That old house was an incubator—growing my dreams and plans. It was a hiding place for pure gold wrapped in poverty. That old house held priceless masterpieces that only the Finger of God had touched. That old house is still anchored in place and finally falling apart, but those who lived in it and grew up to full maturity are blessed. Not even the prodigal son and daughter can escape the Builder’s blueprint.

Reflection: What do you believe God was teaching the inhabitants of this old Shotgun house? How does it relate to your journey as a parent? Come back tomorrow for part four. If you missed part two, you can read it here.