On Friday night, I slept one last night in the house that grew me, a house that for 58 years has sheltered those who dwelled there. There were boxes stacked and the walls were bare. If you have ever been to Grannys house you know how different it looked. If the walls of that house could talk, they would share the memories made there. They would talk of the laughter heard, the tap dancing I did on its floor. They would tell you that there were no verbal wars, no screaming and fighting...daddy just wouldnt do it...though Mom was ready sometimes, he just would not participate. The walls would tell you the words of the praise songs they heard and the morning messages on KCBI every day...the floors would tell you what it felt like, looked like to see my mom and daddy on their knees praying at night....if the house that grew me could talk. Kids born....growing up, more kids called grand kids...great grand kids climbing the tree and swinging from the rope.... If walls could talk they would tell you what peace feels like when the Holy Spirit is present even in the saddest day for those who lived there said goodbye to daddy. Seasons of change are hard sometimes, though always we find that new seasons bring new memories. As in the past, yesterday God sent some very awesome helpers...and when Texas decided to fire up, we loaded lots of cars...a moving van and we headed to Moms new season, a beautiful new home. And there, God sent more helpers to unload, hang pictures... Thank you to all those who sweat yesterday...especially to all those who have loved Granny...and prayed for her....and will continue to. We now wait on the new family who will come and make new memories in the most amazing home..and how I wish those walls really could talk and share about the family who grew there....
Posted on: Mon, 14 Jul 2014 15:18:44 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015