THE HOUSE
If you knew anything about me (and I realize you don’t, but you will by the end of the next several chapters), you would know that up until this point I had pretty much lived my life in a never-ending search for the “right” answer, the “right” path, and the “right” decisions. Like a rodent trying to learn her way out of the maze, I sometimes saw God as the scientist who shocked me with electricity when I took a wrong turn and rewarded me with a tasty morsel when I did something good. Law practice at a big corporate law firm — zzzzzzzzzzzzt! Bad. Adopting a beautiful, perfect son. Yuuuummmy – good. This mindset, as you can probably imagine, blessed me with neither the wisdom nor the creativity to figure out how to craft a life for myself. All it did was make me scared as hell to take a wrong turn. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzt! Bad.
Not surprisingly, when my husband found our “perfect” house after 2 or 3 weeks of serious searching, I was nearly apoplectic when faced with the prospect of making a life decision in a realm in which I had plainly failed so many times before. But God’s grace, as it always does, got me over the hump that I in my own strength could not traverse, and we bought The House.
Coming from a 1400 square foot two-bedroom loft condo, I had absolutely no idea what in the world we were going to do with all of this space. The House had five bedrooms – one down, four up. Three bathrooms. One formal and one casual living room. A kitchen. A dining room. A breakfast “nook.” Another “nook” of some kind (yet to be determined) in the master “suite.” A landscaped backyard that must have been a pale reflection of Eden in its heyday. An oversized garage. Over 3,000 square feet in all, God blessed me with this wide-open, spacious beauty of a House. More than 34 years young, God blessed me with a wonderful husband, beautiful children, a healthy body, wise parents, empathetic sisters. He handed me these blessings, ripe with promise but devoid of meaning. And He said, “I’ll be back. Take good care of my things while I’m gone.” This seemingly simple request shrouded the challenge of a lifetime. Take care of my things while I’m gone. Yeah, right. I know what You’re really saying. Don’t screw it up, stupid, or else . . . . zzzzzzzzzzzzzzt! Crap. I’m toast.
How dare I, you ask? How dare I write a book purporting to discover the meaning of life when my life is filled with more than most people on this crazy planet of ours could ever dream of? People in India live on $3 a day. Innocent people are being jailed and tortured in China as we speak.
