If These Walls Could Talk

They would tell you about the sometimes serious but always funny antics of a young man and woman in their earliest stages of marriage. From the first night there, marked by undesired change and familial interference, to the last night spent lying in bed sort of reflecting but mostly laughing about our favorite memories. There was so much life there in that 814 square foot apartment – love, laughter, passion, emotion, anger, friends, family – I’m emotional even now just thinking of it all.

I keep reliving a scene from last night where I stood for a moment and tried to let everything I could remember from our time there flood my mind. Nothing, save a leftover shower caddy and a few marks on the wall, was left to show me anything of the parts of our story that stemmed from this setting. I don’t even have pictures to remind me. And so for just a minute, I captured everything I could, switched off the light, and locked the door for the very last time.

But I didn’t leave it and it didn’t leave me. The sound of that light switch going off continued to echo in my mind and heart as I drove to our new home, turning away from that entirely empty and utterly spotless apartment. An apartment no longer inhabited by the two people who had spent their last two years in it, probably not loving it nearly as much as they should have though they loved it as fully as they could.

Our routine will probably be off for just a little while, but with that will be discovery and joy walking right alongside. We noticed last night, lying in our old bed in our new home without window dressings, that we could see the stars in the pitch black outside our home. Already we’re looking forward to the next rain that makes sort of twinkling noise on our roof and the vent above our stove. Even the sun slowly rising this morning all around us glowed in a way I don’t ever remember it doing before. And the roses are in full bloom just outside, adding to my 10 foot walk to the car a beautifully fragrant romance.

And so we have begun seeing this part of our story written in a new setting. But setting is not just a place, it is a character too, adding value and humor and challenge and foundation to the life of people in it. I am thankful even now for what this place has and will mean for us in the future, meanwhile knowing our story just wouldn’t be what it is without 1505. Because walls do talk, even if only in our memories, in the same way the oldest stories of men were carved into the rocks of the world.

Now, Without Further Ado

Hello everyone! It's been quit a while since I've graced the presence of the blogging world with deep thoughts or updates. I might be mistaken but I believe the last time that I blogged was on October 20th, 2006. I've had thoughts of putting some ideas out there for a while but have been either too busy or preoccupied with something else. The polls came in, however, so for the 90% of you who wanted to hear from me and the the 10% of you who don't know who I am, here it goes.

I started pondering over the last few days about what I might write a little about. I'm not sure if the current economic situation in our country prompted these thoughts or if it was something else, but the ideas of story and fear kept coming to mind. Both are really two separate topics that we could spend days on, however, I thought that I would bring them up starting with this first post to see what you might think. I believe since it's already so late tonight that I will start out with story and then follow it up with a second post on fear in a couple of days. At least then I'll have something to keep my feet to the fire so that this does not just turn into a one hit wonder.

So to begin, I was thinking, "where did I first hear about story in the context of our lives?" I think that it was probably around five or six years ago when I first started to read books such as Wild at Heart by John Eldridge and other books that he has written. One thing that John points out in many of his books and that I have been pondering on is that of story. Not just stories like we read in books, but the stories of our lives, the people and the world around us. I feel as though a lot of the time we run day to day, getting up in the morning, eating breakfast, going to work, coming home, eating dinner, talking with a spouse or friend for a little bit, and then going to bed to get up the next morning and do it again. How often do we stop to think about how the events that are occurring in our lives day to day are building on one another to create our story and to further equip us for the next stage in life. The next moment and the next day. I believe that the events of our lives happen for a reason and build on one another to develop us into the man or woman we are continually becoming. Often we don't take the time to reflect on where we've been, where we're at, and where we're going. Also because of hectic lives we tend to over look our family members, friends, and co-workers' stories. Do you know where the person in cubical or office next to you is originally from? Do know if their parents are still alive or how they came to work there? If you haven't ever taken the time to get to know the people around at all, I encourage to ask a few questions when you run into them one day at work. If you've never taken a moment to stop in silence and reflect on the greater story that you are a part of, take some time and do it. How would your story read to someone if it were written down in a book? Re-reading the last few chapters might be a good fresher and give you a few ideas about how you might like to craft some of the chapters that you have yet to write. Well, it's pretty late here on this end, so I think I will end with an excerpt from one John Eldridge's books, Epic.

"Life, you'll notice, is a story. Life doesn't come to us like a math problem. It comes to us the way that a story does, scene by scene. You wake up. What will happen next? You don't get to know - you have to enter in, take the journey as it comes. The sun might be shining. There might be a tornado outside. Your friends might call and invite you to go sailing. You might lose your job. Life unfolds like a drama. Doesn't it? Each day has a beginning and an end. There are all sorts of characters, all sorts of settings. A year goes by like a chapter from a novel. Sometimes it seems like a tragedy. Sometimes like a comedy. Most of it feels like a soap opera. Whatever happens, it's a story through and through."