We live in an old house. It was built in 1924. I often think about all that these walls have seen and heard. Through the great depression, several major wars, the dawn of rock and roll, the assassination of John F. Kennedy, the Cold War, and so much more, this house has sat unmoved. Solid.
Many people have walked these wood floors, climbed these stairs, and looked out at the huge maple and pine trees lining the immense backyard. They’ve hoped, dreamed, hurt, aged, and finished their days behind these doors. I can’t tell you whether they did any of it well or not.
I’d like to think that I am. How can one really know for sure? We sometimes fight with our past, negotiate our present, and have hopes for our future. But when it’s all said and done, the real question is, “Did we love well?”
Things break on old houses. Sometimes they can be fixed, so we fix them. Sometimes we just have to live with brokenness. When I am tempted to feel irritated, I think about how old this place is and I ask myself if I can still love and enjoy this house if that thing stays broken. The answer is always yes because I feel like anything that has stood for this long, seen all that it has, and has made provision for so many over multiple decades deserves to be loved in spite of the parts that are broken.
I think that’s what we all hope for: that those we call friends and family would keep on loving us in spite of the pieces that are broken and imperfect…and we love them back.
It was God’s idea to love us first…in spite of our brokenness. This is where redemption begins!