As we moved into our new home and began to settle in over a year ago, we began to get to “know” the house.
But I didn’t expect this.
I still recall the first time I viewed the house. It was overwhelming. I won’t go into unnecessary detail, but it was difficult to envision it being mine, and I was convinced that, even though it was propped on the edge of the mountain, there was “no view.” The truth was, I simply hadn’t found it yet.
We renovated before we moved in, changing key elements to provide a sort of “blank canvas” feel. We were starting to unwrap the mystery behind the move. As we began to move in, unpack, and explore, I began to find even more things about the house that I didn’t realize were a part of the equation before. The ironing board hidden inside a drawer. The boiling water tap in the kitchen. Surprise. Joy.
And then something even deeper happened. The more we settled in, the more we became aware of something else. It will seem silly to you. But to me, it is symbolic. You see, there is something weird about the cutlery drawer. If it is not pushed solidly shut (and no one can actually explain how “solidly” and how “shut” we mean when we say this), it will open at random times during the day. Sometimes it opens right after the attempted close.
Other times it opens when I am in prayer.
Or reading something meaningful.
Or just sitting in quiet contemplation.
And then slowly the drawer slides open like an invitation to me that whatever it is that I am doing right then is important. And deeper than I think. And more meaningful than I currently know. The drawer becomes an invitation to the table.
I could say that I love my house, but now I know that it never really was about the house, and it isn’t even about a slippery drawer. As the snow falls in gigantic flakes all around me, the drawer having slide open moments before, my soul just waits, invited, to see and take a part of the present. Where I am. Where God is.
If I had my way I would have purchased the crazy expensive gigantic fork and spoon I found at one of the furniture stores last year. But now I realize that what I have is even better.
“He escorts me to the banquet hall; it’s obvious how much He loves me.”
Time to RSVP.