I lived in the same house for 32 years.( not this one…lol) My Mother made it into a home. It had originally been just a shell of its former self. No one seemed to want it. It was on the market for 3 years prior to she and I going to take a look at it. My Mom saw potential. My Mom had a vision for it,for us. I acquiesced… not really wanting to move anywhere else. I wanted to stay in my Grandmother’s house. I wanted to stay where it was familiar. A place I had many memories, mostly good, many hard times, a few traumatic memories as well. I stuck by her side always, as she had done with me. Us against the world.
After we moved in began the process of change. We were determined to make it our own. It was slow going .Making ends meet was difficult enough. Making changes was a challenge both in will and perseverance. Slowly it became a thing of beauty. There were now gardens where none had been. And pets, cats, dogs, geese , chickens, ducks, rabits, a couple of turkeys. Walls were painted, curtains were hung.Electric was re-wired. Furniture was arranged and we had begun to live our new life in the country.
There was wood to pile, animals to feed and water, fires to stoke, a road to plow. All these things and more led to mornings with coffee on the porch, watching geese and ducks swim in the small pond, smelling the grass as it was being cut, meeting new neighbors. A sense of freedom and peace as days turned into sunsets watched, years turned into memories of children playing outside, teenagers hiding in trees or around the corners to scare the living daylights out of you, illness, and then seperation. Many times over those years the house and property experienced changes. Many times an overhaul and hard work were needed and many times (when many would have given up ) this family both biological and extended would plant their feet firmly and say “I shall not be moved”.
Due to my Dear Husband’s fight with cancer and its treatments and subsequent struggles occuring, the home became seemingly lost to us.
The family was split, moved out and on and so did I. The house became a shell once again. No footsteps except an occasional intruder. No music, no joy, no love was seen here any more.
But God was not limited. He was always in control. By a series of events that were by no means reasonable or foreseeable, rather than loosing it completely, it was once again set into my hands.
As my Mother had done I also turned it over to someone in the family who had the heart, desire and capability of renewing the house and property.
It has slowly begun being reclaimed. It is still held by family. It is still in God’s care. My heart is blessed because of it. I am not personally there. That is ok. It has to be. But there is hope that it will bless our family again. There is hope that it will bless others again. There is hope that children will laugh and play, that music will be heard, that sunrises and sunsets will be seen. There is the possibility that crickets and peepers and frogs will calm someone’s heart again. That this place will bring peace again. It’s my hearts desire.
Now consider this…what about your creativity? What about your art? Does it seem unrealistic ? Or hopeless? Can you or others work with you to create something? Do you need attention,physical therapy, mental relief? Do you have the capability? Can you learn? Do you have the stubbornness it takes? Would you still like to try? If you can’t “do ” , can you teach?
Take small steps. Take a big leap. Persevere. Why? Success? How about just joy or peace? Grow where you are planted. Faith in God , hope for a new day and opportunity , these are what is available to each of us as long as we breath. If not now then when?
My wishes and prayers for each reader is that you have a brighter day.
Julia Baker-Waite Art 