Finding Home

Once upon a time I was a girl who liked to investigate old houses. I liked to see what people left behind, what was not worth the efforts of packing up and taking. I liked the blood pumping of opening doors and saying quietly at first , "Hello?" What a question to ask, it locates yourself to others so that they know where you are if they want to greet and/or attack you. But it is the most common question that is asked in that situation.
No one ever greeted and or attacked me in those endeavors. I saw many things though. old windows with bubbles in them due to imperfect glass. Yhe glass lasting way longer than the wood frame and plaster. I saw beautiful doors that I wanted to hang on my wall as art. Elaborate carving away of wood. I saw the electric wires on the outside of the wall because the walls came before the electricity. I stood in the outhouses to see how scary it would be at night. I witnessed the spray paint from teens on thirty year old newspaper turned wall paper.
I saw a momma cat who sought refuge. I knew the feeling to just want to belong somewhere. I needed to be where I was the only one too. I completely understood the cats nesting instinct.
I loved the "Frigidaire" ice box left behind and the old stove with a place for actual fire.
Sometimes in these homes i could feel the love there, lingering, though the inhabitants long gone. Sometimes i could feel their spirit of happiness, or sadness. Sometimes I felt them there, themselves, still seemingly trapped in time. Welcoming me or hating my presence, depending in the situation. Either way it was very educational for me.
I know that someday someone will walk through my home and say, "Look, she must have packed the kids lunches right here a hundred times before school" or "Right here the sun must have streamed in every morning on his face. I'll bet she loved seeing the light on his skin."
it was what i did in my head the first time I saw the old house.
There were no ghosts there, just lots of memories lingering. as though someone forgot to pack them, as though they weren't really wanted after all. There were photos left behind, and a hat that was his favorite, and a trophy. There were old stickers and a bible and there was lots of damage to the house. Wut we saw the potential and now it will be ours.
We will love it and make God the head of our house. We will thank
Him for the opportunity to call it home. I am grateful to be a girl who still loves to explore abandoned houses or this experience may have never been ours.