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Our House

I sit on the crisp white bed in Makiah's room for a long time thinking about it first.  Bouncing my eyes from the beautiful oil painting of a castle in the sky to the bright picture she painted of a house and then back to the shelf displaying her favorite things.  I thought we might sell our house and God would spare me from this moment, but it hasn't worked out that way.  Our family is growing and this baby will soon need a room.  So I sit on her bed contemplating what I am about to do.

I get a text.  It is from a friend far away.  She says I am on her heart and wants to know what I am doing.  Tears fill my eyes, and I think she must have a hidden camera in my house! She responds no... but God does.  She reminds me that He always fills in the gaps for us and that she is praying Jesus will wrap His arms  around me and that she wishes she lived close enough to help and hug me herself.  I am undone.  By the love of a Father sent through my friend.  Pushing my tears aside, I take a deep breath, grasp for strength, and plunge into the closet.  I have been sitting for an hour already and the girls will not nap forever.

Before Makiah died, she had gotten into the habit of saying that she wished our whole family (meaning grandparents and aunts and uncles) all lived in one big house.  I lost count how many times she said this that last summer.  Every time we said goodbye to a visiting relative she would exclaim her wish loudly with pouty lips and a pitiful expression!  After she died, her preschool teacher sent me all of her artwork.  Many of the pictures were of a big house and some included family members with labels (she had dictated to the teacher).  It became clear to me after she died that she wasn't just drawing a fantasy, but a shadow of something very real to come.  In fact more real than this wooden house with shutters that we shared here in this hot south Georgia field. 

A house where thieves do not break in and steal and moths or rust do not corrupt.....  A house where all our family can live close to each other.  A house that she would see before all the rest of us.   A house with enough rooms...

I finish the closet conversion.  All the baby's things are organized, and many of Makiah's tiny outfits hang ready to be worn by her little sister.  As I stare at the little clothes and blankets and a new pack of diapers, I am surprised at the little brook bubbling up inside me.  I think it is happiness.  Change is hard.  But the signs in front of me are of new life.  New life. 

And I know my friend must have really prayed for me.  And I think Makiah might be smiling to see her sister share her room.  And maybe she laughs because she already knows how beautiful the house is we will never sell... the one with plenty of rooms.



" But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves do not break in or steal;  for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."   Mathew 6:20-21

A collage of Makiah's art that still hangs in her room.


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