Forgive me if you don’t like country music. I’ve been strangely addicted to this song. I think I like it because I think about the blue split level I grew up in on Shannon Way.
Fast forward to 1:15 to skip the intro (RSS readers make the jump to the site for the vid).
I grew up in a blue split level. My hand prints are in the driveway apron and my height measurements are in the doorway in the basement. My dad put in the front bay windows and added on the screened-in porch. Mom would read the afternoons away on that porch. My room was in the back over the den. I had a space shuttle on one wall and Michael Jordan on the other, both soaring. I had a water bed because it was the eighties, and everybody knows water beds are totally awesome.
The greater truth I think about when I listen to this song is we don’t belong to houses, and houses no longer belong to us. I feel grateful as I listen to her sing. I no longer have to run to physical things to heal my brokenness or attempt to find myself. Things and homes and places no longer define me.
I think home is the place we rest from all of these things.
“He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the LORD, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust” (Psalm 91:1-2).
And still, I like to think about that blue split level. It seems like another lifetime ago.
What was the house that built you like?