A Home

“Home is where the heart is.”  Pliny the Elder

This past month, my sisters and I sold our Mama’s house in our hometown. She and my Daddy built it in 1947, lived in it all their married life, and added on for each of our wedding receptions! They raised us three girls there, entertained family there, celebrated holidays there, had wedding receptions there, met son in laws there, greeted new grandchildren there, had their 50th anniversary party there, and gathered there for funerals of loved ones.  It was a happy place because my Mama made it a home.  She filled it with things and people that she loved.  A part of my heart will always be there!

As we drove away, I was reminded of the many times we are all called upon to take a structure like a house and make it into a home for our family.  Randy and I were so fortunate to only move six times in our married life, but to someone who had never moved, it was six times too many.  Five of those times were to different parsonages in the North Georgia conference.

A parsonage is defined as “a house provided by the church for use by its pastor.”  There are different parsonages, and I must say that we had some of the worst and some of the best.  I had no idea that when you moved into a parsonage, you not only live in a home which is not yours, but also one over which you have no control.  In those days, a committee decided what you hung on the wall, what furniture you had, provided your mattress, and decorated for you whether you liked it or not!  The decor was usually a hodgepodge of whatever the members did not want in their own homes.   You took what was provided, and you made this house your home.

Our first parsonage was pre civil war – quaint on the outside but falling apart on the inside. Sherman spared this house on his march through Georgia, but I can’t for the life of me understand why! The house had huge rooms with high ceilings, and the kitchen and bathroom had been added to the back of the house for functionality with no thought of appearance! The house had space heaters, no AC (which was standard in parsonages), huge cracks around the windows, no washer, dryer, or dishwasher, a hole in the chimney (which was the only additional source of heat) big enough for a man to stand and walk through, and a sink that fell in on our first month there. I was struggling to make this house our home.  What is a preacher’s wife to do?

The morning the sink fell in with dishes in it, this preacher’s wife marched right past the preacher into the bedroom and began to pack!  I remember saying as Randy asked what was wrong, “The sink just fell in! I am going to my Mama’s, taking Rob, and when you move – call me!” When I looked around, Randy was helping me pack as he talked!   He said, “Well, it’s a shame you are going to miss the Parsonage Committee dinner party we are hosting next week.  I wanted them to see the house, so they are coming over.”  I stopped mortified and said, “But, we don’t even have a sink!”  “Yep,” Randy said, “let’s add that to the list.”

I stayed and we got to work.  We entertained the six women and two men committee members on a very eventful evening!  They were very sweet and horrified at the condition of the house.  It seems none of them had ever been invited over to the parsonage before. As God would have it, one of the men owned a construction company, one of the ladies had a connection at the Mart, and yet another sold carpet.  In the next month, we got new carpet, central heating (not air), furniture, washer and dryer, and a new sink!!  The dishwasher was pushing it! With their blessing, I added our touches to the house, we filled it with love, friends, and laughter, and suddenly one day it was our home!

A house is just a house, but making a home is the important thing.

(The picture is my Mama’s house, not our parsonage!!)