As most of you know, I am a bit sentimental when it comes to people and places that are deeply imbedded in my past. Some of my fondest memories are of the times at my maternal grandparent’s home which was located about a mile away from our home in Beverly Hills on the south side of Chicago. It was Mom’s only childhood home and represented years of hard work and saving until the house could be built.
It was there that I sat at my grandfather’s left during Sunday evening dinners and learned so many of the lessons of my youth. These things included how I would eventually be the family patriarch and how I would treat my employees when I owned my own business. It was there that I watched Grandma fill the individual salt “cellars” – they were crystal – that each of us had in front of us to use for pieces of celery or anything else we may need to season at Sunday dinner.
It was there that I learned about my great grandmother, who died when Grandpa was thirteen. And I can’t even count how many nights I have slept in the room my mother had as a child up in the southwest corner of the house. Or the room where Auntie Lou stayed when my grandmother and grandfather took her in after the death of her parents. It was in that room that I learned to write. And years later, the room where Auntie Lou would breath her last and enter heaven.
The smell of the soaps and other products on the shelf in the hall closet and the mirror at the top of the landing are still fresh in my mind. The basement was full of all kinds of machines and tools – a paradise for a kid anxious to learn how to repair things with a willing grandfather. Above all, it was where I learned to always take care of my “stuff”. Grandpa believed in buying things once – and then taking care of them to make sure that they stayed in pristine condition, If anything was wrong in the house, Grandpa was on it…
After Grandpa died in March, 1972, Mom put the house on the market, as well as the house that we lived in. It was the end of an era with the home that I knew so much about and that my mother had lived in since her earliest days – well, until she married Dad.
We sold to a person who only lived there a year and saw the opportunity to make a killing on the sale of the house. She did… I actually met the third owners when I stopped by one day and went up to ring the doorbell. They were pleased to meet me and escorted me through the house. It was sad. There was a hole in the front hall ceiling and plaster was disintegrating around the cornices and other ornate decorations that my grandparents had built into the home. The corner of the living room was bare – where our family grandfather clock once stood and marked time during our naps where we were little children and required to be still for thirty minutes in the afternoon.
Our old neighbor, Mary, who had grown up next door, let me know several days ago that the home has finally been sold again. The people I met had lived there 50 years. There were at least three generations living there and, to be perfectly honest, I don’t think they had the resources or the inclination to keep the house in good repair. I’m sure Grandpa was turning over in his grave. From what she told me, the new owner bought it to bring it back to its former glory and live there himself. The previous owners refused to move out and eventually the sheriff had to evict them. The new owner had to enter the house in a hazmat suit due to the quantity of mold everywhere. How terribly sad…
I have the new owner’s number and have offered to provide insight as what the house was like in its glory days. He is most appreciative of my efforts to help him. As sad as I am, there is also a feeling of anticipation that just maybe I can be a part of something so important to my memories.
It occurs to me that our faith can deteriorate like our family home unless we take special care to take inventory, make sure that our lives are in good spiritual repair and continue to invest in the most important thing each of us has – our lives with Christ. Our faith is something that we must practice and be dedicated to. Yes, we are eternally saved once we accept Jesus as Lord and Savior, but we should want, out of love, to grow in our relationship… Auto-pilot just isn’t an option… In fact, we must be like David. Although he wasn’t perfect, he was after God’s own heart.
There were times when David felt distant from God, but he always dedicated himself to the pursuit of God. That’s what we should also do. Our verse for tonight is from one of my favorite psalms. David was on the run and earnestly sought God. He tells us, in Psalm 63”1-5, “O God, you are my God, earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you, my body longs for you, in a dry and weary land where there is no water. I have seen you in the sanctuary and beheld your power and your glory. Because your love is better than life, my lips will glorify you. I will praise you as long as I live, and in your name I will lift up my hands. My soul will be satisfied as with the richest of foods; with singing lips my mouth will praise you.”
My encouragement this evening is that God wants us to work on and grow our relationship with Him. Otherwise, we run the risk of watching our faith deteriorate. It is so much easier to work on our faith daily and my prayer is that our spiritual homes will be maintained to the highest degree to honor Him who created us. Have a great day in the Lord, grace and peace…