Most of us can't imagine having lived our entire lives at the same address. In many ways, that's a blessing, exemplary of the freedom we have in America to move our residence at will. We may pack all our worldly belongings in half a dozen friends' pickup trucks and move a relatively short distance, from one neighborhood to another. Or we may load everything into one cavernous moving van, and travel across several state lines, taking our families and our dreams on a sojourn to where there are different climates, different dialects, even different fast food chains.
But I'd like to suggest that perhaps the blessing of mobility can be outweighed by losing some of the foundation of memory and steadfastness that comes from living in the same home for many years. I can list 13 different places in 67 years where I lived long enough to have a mailing address, but only in 3 of them did I live for more than 8 years. It is likely that those 3 homes, if they could speak to one another, would have the most interesting stories to tell.
From approximately age 2-13 (1948-1959), this 2028 Ferris Road house in Columbus, Ohio, became the home that nurtured my boyhood. It was here that I learned to pretend, to read, to explore. To first grasp the glories of the changing seasons. There were helmetless football games played on hard ground, but cushioned by the crispy leaves of late autumn. Those games were soon followed by the fresh, white blizzards that gave us the raw material for the grandest of snow forts. Then, without fail, the spring rains brought the irises which lined the stone driveway, and all the other greenery of rebirth and awakening. But for me, the allure of summer was beyond that of all the other seasons. For it was then, it seemed, that we kids transformed into the full mode of childhood. Baseball, cowboys and Indians, bicycle rides, Popsicles, Kool-aid, trips to both the library and the swimming pool. There were warm, starlit nights, and powerful thunderstorms that might arise at any hour of the day or night. I can't prove that the skies were bluer then....you'll just have to take my word for it.
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| 2028 Ferris Road |
But, whatever the season, when the hard play ended, we retreated into this less-than-spacious home, for rest and shelter.....and Mother and Daddy's love. It's been 55 years since I walked out of that house for the last time, but my memory can still take me on a fairly accurate tour through each room, if you'd ever like to visit.
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| 142 West Kibler (Blizzard of 1978) |
The next house I lived in for 10+ years was at 142 West Kibler Street in Bluffton, Ohio, where Nancy and I lived and raised our family from 1970-1980. Our perspective on living in a home had changed since our magical years as kids. Now we were parents, wanting our three kids to have the same adventure and wonder of being children that we had enjoyed. For some reason, it's a bit difficult to grasp that only 20 years separated our childhoods from theirs.
Finally, from 1980-2011, we enjoyed the longest residence of all at 173 Bern Street in Bluffton, Ohio. If the walls in this home could speak they would boast of celebrating 3 high school graduations, 3 college graduations, 3 weddings and the birth of 8 grandchildren. And that alone is enough to be elected into the National Home Hall of Fame. ** (Must have a minimum 25 years of service to qualify)
She had a reputation for being witness to frequent laughter, good food, hard work and prayers of thanksgiving. But she also saw her fair share of sickness, tears and just-can't-sleep heartache. But always there was God's grace and mercy. She saw an abundance of that....
Inside, she had one of the higher quality family height charts, marked in pencil behind the utility room door. Her main outside feature was a pie-shaped yard south of the home, affectionately known as "The Far Patch." (partially seen in the right of this photo.)
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| 173 Bern Street (1981) |
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| 173 Bern Street (2013) |
On a fantasy level, I have considered how wonderful it would be to have all of the homes I've ever lived in reconstructed, and the full homesteads, yards included, adjoined on one large site, in a celebration of God's provision.
So, consider the homes in which you've lived. What are the sights and sounds that you can remember, even now ? How did each home serve your needs at the time, and what blessings did it bring to your life ?
One thing that all of our homes have in common is that they are just temporary dwellings, just as our bodies are. I am saddened when I look today at my boyhood home. It has not been cared for, and unless something is done soon, I suspect it will have to be destroyed.
The Bible tells us that God has placed in our hearts the desire for a Forever Home. John 14:2-3 also records Jesus' words about what that Forever Home might be like:
In my Father's house are many mansions. If it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you with me that you also may be where I am.
Just like we all used to say when we were kids....
"Daddy, how much further ? Are we almost there ?"
"Oh yes, kids. Home isn't far now.....It's just over the hilltop......"
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