Facing East

I sat down at the opposite end of our dining room table to eat. By myself and it was noon. It's normally where my oldest, with his long legs sits during family dinners. But today I did.

Alone in my house. 

Choosing the opposite end from my normal go to. I normally, always, face west, and today I was east. 

It was quiet and I looked around with a rare perspective. I spooned into my meal and appreciated the depth of flavor and nuance that something cooked over a long time, many hours manifests.

As I looked up from my seat I had a flashback to when I was 8 months pregnant with my third. We were moving and searching for a home.  I sat at another families dining room table, great with expectancy after walking, waddling through this place.... in the same EXACT spot facing east to deliberate if this could be ours, our home. I looked at this fixer upper with exposed and exfoliated creaky hardwood floors, the old woodwork, original windows and yellow paint. 

It sort of felt like me.  A little broken a little new. It had some promise, but needed A LOT of work. But it had character.

I never imagined myself in a brand new home. I wanted a porch with a swing.  I wanted thick, notched, storytelling wood. Asymmetrical spaces and arched entryways. Cool crawl spaces and a secret attic. Sit in windows and pocket doors.

We toured several other houses.  Most of which made me cry in discouragement.  When I prayed "God, I need a house with a nursery..because baby" He knew.  He understood it was more than a nursery. It was this house. My longing was for sanctuary and refuge.  To live out creativity and originality.

These days even as I sat facing east in a house that sometimes now leaves me in discouragement...I know He is still in the details.  We've outgrown it in many ways.  We now have different needs and I might be over the creaky floors just a little. 

But even still...

this place..these walls...hold our stories.  The molding around the door where we mark and measure 'how tall' our boys have grown reminds me that He knows.  So many stories in that wood. The depth of flavor and nuance is something to savor.

So many promises fulfilled.

There is something about this 'facing East' that struck me.  I learned once how in many Catholic churches the altar faces East, looking toward Jerusalem.  Toward the coming of the Lord.  Reverent and expectant in that direction.

I'm reminded to fix my eyes on Him, on His promise.  I am more inclined to pull up a chair in this old house, let my heart open wide and watch and wait.

Wait on Him. Because LIFE is now. He is in the waiting.

Soon we will come under a new roof and breath life into a new home that fits us in this season.  We will let our roots grow into the soil.  The details will unveil themselves over the years I'm certain as we open our hearts wide like doors.  New stories will be written. The flavor and nuance will be robust and full of depth. This new home will be a steady reminder as it, without coincidence, truly faces east, to watch and wait on the coming of the Lord.

P.S. Don't miss this incredible song