Sunday, November 8, 2015

The House

Almost two years ago I went to a women's conference for healing. At a meeting before we left it was said that we needed to dress like the "daughters of God" that we were in order to make a good impression to others during the conference.  It had not been unusual in past years for women to go in their pj pants and slippers from what I have been told.  The whole notion irritated me.  It felt like trying to slap lipstick on a pig.  Not that these women were pigs, but in my opinion one should not be concerned about the outward appearance of a person, but more the inner.  If a women who wants to heal feels more comfortable doing so in pj pants than their "Sunday best", who is anyone to discourage that?  Anyways, that whole concept made me think and this is what came from that thinking.


There once was an architect who built a beautiful little house.  The design was flawless and there was no lack in the attention to detail that was put into this house.  The architect saw the house he had created and was pleased.

After a few years some people saw the house and decided to vandalize it.  They tore off the shutters and picked the locks.  They came into the house and did much damage, breaking things and destroying what the architect had designed.  

As the years went by and storms came and went the winds and the rains began to rot the little house from the inside out. It was no longer protected by the architect’s design, because the vandals had ignored its value and used it for their own purposes. 

The little house no longer cared who came inside. Anyone was welcome, because the company was better than the loneliness .

Some of the people who came tried to fix the broken parts.  They put up wall paper over the mold and damages and painted the outside to hide the rotting boards.  

The little house looked better, but inside it was still rotting away behind the fresh paint and pretty papers.  

The architect saw the little house and the damages that had been done to his creation and what others had done to try and cover them.  

He was saddened that his perfect little house was no longer the way he had designed it to be.

He began sending people to the house to pull down the wall paper that hid the mold and to scrape away the paint that covered the rot.

The house thought it was being demolished.  

More people came and stripped the house down.  Tearing out more than the house thought was possible to be removed and still be left standing.

The demolishing hurt.  

Standing exposed for all to see felt worse than the rotting had.  The house wished it had never been built.

Slowly though as the old was removed and the new was brought in the house began to feel strong again.  

As the builders built the architect designed.  His original design had been perfect, but this house had seen a lot and stood through a lot of storms, the house needed a fresh design, new ways to protect it from future vandals and to stand as a beacon to others that had been vandalized.  Yes, this house would serve a new purpose.  

The vandals had sought only to destroy what the architect made.

Others thought only to cover the damages, not to repair them.

But the architect new his home and knew what it needed and what it could do.

The repairs took a long time.  

There were times that no one worked so that what had already been done had time to set. If the time hadn’t been allowed the house would not be as strong and any new work would be built on a weak foundation.

The little house only knew what was happening as it happened, it did not see the architects design. There were days when the house thought it would never be completed.

Finally one day all the work was finished.  The house sat tall and strong.  It learned who to let in and who to keep out and if anyone picked the locks it knew that the architect would come and repair it.

The house had gone from being broken and vulnerable to the storms to now being a refuge during them.