God Sets Our Days

      In the summer before Bruce died, on calm, warm evenings we'd walk every now and then down Riverside Drive, the street our house was cornered on. I was burned out and was quitting my job at the insurance agency I worked at, so Bruce and I naturally discussed the future and the next step.

     We were not ones given much to impressions or intuitions, but this time we both strongly felt that the next step to take was to get the house ready.

     Neither one of us knew what that meant--get the house ready--but we knew that was the next thing we needed to do.

     I felt a stab of fear at the thought: being married to a pastor, I wondered if we would be called to another church. I loved where we were at: the kids were in good schools, we had recently purchased the house, we loved our church. But there were no offers for a new pastorate; nor was Bruce looking for any. We were settled and content. Get the house ready didn't seem very timely.

     Months later, in January, get the house ready began to take on some meaning. Bruce heard about an interior decorator we could hire for only $20/hour. I met with her and found a color scheme, curtain ideas, wallpapers and paint. I scheduled the decorator to meet with a carpenter at my house on my birthday so they could discuss some projects she suggested.

     And then Bruce died the night before my birthday.

      I hadn't thought to call and cancel the decorator and carpenter, so they showed up to a house of mourning. They must have thought I was nuts when I opened the door, explained what had happened, and asked them to come in to do what they needed to do in spite of everything.

 

      And that's what they did. They met together in one room, while I cried in another. In the weeks to come, my house was stripped of its old paisly beige wallpaper, ripped bare and scraped like my soul.
As it slowly got put back together---as the walls were smoothed and freshly painted with warm earthtones and windows were framed with tailored curtains and draperies, the transformation was a comfort and encouragement. A metaphor materialized before my very eyes--God was redecorating me, too.

 

      In II Kings 20:1, the Lord said to King Hezekiah, "Set your house in order . . ." I read those words the other day and have been haunted by how similar they were to get the house ready.

 

      We didn't ever realize Bruce was about to die, but God did. He told us what we needed to know. No more, no less. Step by step God was leading and showing the way.

 

      Do you have some redecorating happening in your life today?