I love where we live, I love the farm and being in the country and I love our big old farmhouse. But this time of year, when I am having my entire family come for a meal, I see all the flaws of my house and worry everyone else will see them as well.

I see the garage door that Becky ran into and we haven't completely fixed yet. I see the walk-in garage door that doesn't quite fit right and the wood around it where the cats have sharpened their claws. I see the veneer chipping off the main door into the house and the slightly broken door threshold. I see both bathrooms that we started to remodel and haven't had time to finish. I see the walls in the living room that are cracked and could use a fresh coat of paint. I see the hardwood floor in the sewing room that is scratched and needs a rug to cover it. I see the furniture that is getting worn out and the stove that is on it's last leg. I see the tile in the office that needs to be replaced and the wall and ceiling that need to be fixed because of the leaky roof and bathroom plumbing this summer.

But then I stop and think about our old house. This house that is almost 100 years old deserves to show some age. This is the house that has been in the family since it was built, the house where Dan's great-aunt and great-uncles lived, the house where his grandparents lived, the house where his parents came as newlyweds and the house where Dan and his sister and brother came as newborns. This is the house where we all gathered for holidays and "just because" days. This is the house where we gathered to mourn the loss of Dan's dad. This house has a lot of history, good and bad, happy and sad.

This house is where we moved our children, the first time they ever had to move. These four walls, with their chipped and cracked and peeling paint is where we have celebrated birthdays, graduations, and awards. These walls hold the pictures of our families and the posters of our interests. The furniture may be worn, but it is worn from people visiting and sleeping and enjoying their time. The floors are worn and scratched from years of kid's toys scraping across them and high heels on feet that were learning to walk in them. Things weren't always repaired immediately because the money was better spent on something the family needed, not just wanted for cosmetic reasons. Things weren't always repaired because the time was better spent with the family, watching the kids in their concerts and sporting events.

Our house may be old and starting to show it, but it is a house filled with so many memories, so much love and laughter that it doesn't matter that some things aren't exactly like they should be. Our house is just like us...not perfect. But it is perfect for each of us that live, and have lived, in it. This is more than just a house, it is our home.

date November 20, 2010

2 comments to “Our House Is A Very Very Very Fine House...”

  1. pamela
    November 20, 2010 at 6:11 PM

    I agree.

  1. Jennifer @ Getting Down With Jesus
    November 20, 2010 at 9:59 PM

    Fabulous! ... Your house is, indeed, very, very fine. It has a memory all its own and cradles your life stories on the walls, in the dinged-up woodwork, on the broken threshold. Bless you!

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