The bottom step...


Thursday afternoon, with my tummy full of food and my heart full of family, I stood at the bottom of a set of stairs I have looked up many times. 

I didn't stand at the bottom for very long.  I took them two at a time- dodging the creaks like a thief. 

It's funny how a set of stairs can bring back so many memories. 

Amazing memories {racing down for Christmas mornings}.  Painful memories {missed steps and stubbed toes}.  Crazy memories {a brother just behind the corner, waiting to scare me}.  Bad memories {stomped feet and hurled words}.  Funny memories {Mom.  Seriously.  When are you going to paint these stairs??}.  Beautiful memories {a grand entrance for a senior prom}.

Above those stairs was my bedroom.  My safe place.  The harbor of my dreams and hopes and ambitions.  It was my space. 

It was the place where I carved the initials of all the boys I ever had a crush on into my bedpost.  It was the place where I hid all my stories and notes and words in the empty space under the bookcase.  It was the place where I hacked away at a keyboard every night until four AM... and then dragged myself out of bed for school.  It was the place full of dirty clothes and magazine pictures of my favorite TV characters taped on the walls and books hidden under the bed... things that made it mine.  It was the place where Mama would sneak in to lay the first lilac blossoms on my pillow. 

That set of old wooden stairs was the only thing standing between me... and home.

It's funny how a set of stairs can make me anticipate so many things... 

I go up a different set of stairs now.  Pink carpet and wallpaper replace wood and paneling.  There are no creaks, but there is a railing.  The rooms are in different places.  But the feeling when I push open the door is the same.  Home.  The place where I can kick off my shoes and breathe. 


This place is so temporary.  Not a house I own... but a space I rent for a little while.  The home I truly long for sometimes seems so far away.

Like I'm standing on the bottom step.

But there's no other step I'd rather be on.  Here, looking up I can see where I'm going.  Here I am not so high that I feel I have attained anything more than what I am.  Here I am so small... but I can see Your glory.

Lord, keep me always on this step.  

 One foot lifted away from everything You have saved me from, but close enough to remember.  One foot placed ahead, toward everything that You saved me for.  Keep me on this step where I am close enough to be Your hands and feet.  Keep my eyes and heart fixed on what's up There... my safe place... my harbor.  The Place where You're waiting, preparing for me. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood...

Image
How many blog posts under the sun must center on Robert Frost's famous words... The Road Not Taken.   How many aspiring writers dream of penning a poem so well loved, so well remembered, so meaningful.  How many of us have claimed with pride, "YES!  That's my story!"  How many of us have slathered those words over old wounds... covered pieces of our past under that banner.  You know the one I mean... And yet, there's a part of that poem that often gets looked over.  We claim the last three lines for our own.  "Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-- I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference." But what about the pause before the thunder... "I shall be telling this with a sigh somewhere ages and ages hence..." With a sigh.  Somehow, I don't imagine he meant a sigh of satisfaction. Maybe a sigh of longing.  Of regret. I can slather that picture over so many place in my life.  Places where two choice...
Read more

To unlearn a lifetime...

Image
Sometimes I despise this body... its frailties... its imperfections... its weaknesses . Somestimes I despise this mind... my wandering thoughts... its lack of organization... the fixation on the inane... and the overlooking of the One thing that matters. Sometimes I despise this heart... this heart that tears in half so easily.  This heart that yearns so deeply... that longs to please. I. Am. Flawed. I am broken.  This world is broken.  Human love is broken. And it's hard. It's hard not to push away when it hurts.  Not to build a wall around my heart.  A fence of offense.  It's hard not to sink into the desire to be self-sufficient.  It's hard not to hear the line... "You don't need anyone.  You don't need Anyone. " It's hard to close my ears to the lie. In case you missed that... It's a lie . The Truth is I Am. I am complete . Created in His image . Not alone.  The truth is that I am covered by a Jesus who fal...
Read more

I'd rather speak honestly...

Image
I spent a few hours today carefully               (yes.  I can be careful.)                        taking picture frames down from my best friend's walls. A favored daughter's ballet photos.                   A prized son's personality caught in a moment on film. My friend has a decorator's heart and true  talent.  I love visiting her home.  Her modest walls are covered in beautiful family photos.  But  God answers big dreams , and my friend is packing up her starter home of fifteen years and moving to a bigger home with her family. What a privilege it was to examine each picture as I took it down and carefully wrapped it... to wonder at the memories trapped behind the glass and the parts of their life that happened way before I came along.   As each picture came down, my eyes were captivated m...
Read more