Monday, November 21, 2011

White & Fading Colors

Yesterday I walked through a building that I've known oh so well for 11 years of my life. As I walked through the old familiar parts of this building the memories came back in a flood.  I went through each room as one would walk through the years. And as I stepped into each I'd stop, stand and let the memories play.
The laughs and giggles.  The fun and games.  The tears that were shed, the caring words that were said and the prayers that were prayed.  The friendships that were made, that have continued through the trials and through the years.  The innocent secrets that were shared in the corner of this room.  The funny stories that were told in that room.

As I walk I think of how this one building, and all that has gone on inside and outside of it for these 11 years, has played such a crucial part in the person I am today.  The good times when we were overwhelmed with joy and a love for each other.  The bad times that challenged and strengthened my faith.  The sad times when I learned that Jesus is the only one and only thing I can hold onto and count on, when everything else is shaking and upside-down.
They began building a new addition on it this year.  My walking brings me to this new part of the building.  The walls have just been painted.  White.   I haven't gone through the new addition in a while so I decide to do a little exploring.   As I stroll through these new rooms I can't help but notice the whiteness of the walls.   As of yet there are no marks on them.  Just blank.  Just white.
My exploring finished I head back to my favorite room in the building: the sanctuary. Many a time I've spent in here; sitting, thinking and praying.   Enjoying the still quiet and the peace in the semi-darkness.
I sit in this quiet, dark, solitude and think of all that I've just observed.
It strikes me that this building is more or less a picture of my life.
The old rooms filled with all of the memories are the years gone by.  We can look back at them, remember the joys we had and the lessons we've learned.  They can be our "glasses" to look through at the choices of today and (hopefully) make wise decisions.
Then there's the new addition.  So white, so blank.  Nothing has been written on those walls yet.  These are the days, weeks, months, and years ahead.  Now they seem more blank and blurry than ever.   What stories will be written on these walls?   Will they be of love, caring, selflessness, forgiveness, unity?   Or will they be of heartache, children growing up hurt and confused, back-stabbing, unwilling to forgive?
Where will I be next week?  What new decisions will I have to face?
No answers.  Just a white canvass waiting to be painted.


It's a time for new beginnings.  Of white and fading colors.

Jeremiah 29:11