Home Sweet Home
I find myself in a living situation I never considered would happen. For the immediate future and an indefinite period into the rest of it, I am renting a room in a house from a friend. It's a pretty good deal. Way less than renting an apartment would be. And my friend also has a condo at the beach where he likes to spend most of his time when he's not working. And a girlfriend who's house he also spends time at. So, more often than not, he's not here at all. So I pretty much have the whole house to myself a good bit of the time. Well, not completely. He has two cats. Didn't think a thing about that but with age I have developed some alergy problems I never had before. And I think the cats are getting to me. Something is. I've stopped touching them and letting them in my lap. And I keep them out of my space. Hopefully it will be workable. Anyway, on to my point.
I've been bouncing around a lot the last six months. Staying here and there. A guest. A vagabond. A stint sleeping in a spare room in a downtown office where I cobbled together a make-shift shower in the bathroom. All in all an extended period, the longest of my life, of a feeling of homelessness. In fact, one night when I was staying downtown, after a long day of working outside in the heat, my old grubby clothes filthy and sweaty, I was walking down the street in an area full of night clubs, expensive cars, and trendy people dressed up for a night of partying. It is also an area where lots of street people like to panhandle. The dichotomy of humanity is striking. So, I'm walking along, feeling like myself, and happened to have a few chance interactions when suddenly I realized I was being perceived as a homeless person. It was strange. And then I thought, "Wait a minute. I AM homeless!" So, anyway, on to my point.
I finally have pretty much settled into my 10'x11' space. I got back a bed/desk from semi-permanent loan (like for eight years) to a friend. I had built it for my son who used it for a number of years. Again, I never dreamed I'd ever sleep on it myself, but it's my bed now. And I got myself a little love-seat and a nice office chair. And bought some lumber and built some simple storage solutions. And a few lights. The dark walls of the room really soak up light.
Okay, so FINALLY, here is my point: I finally feel a little bit settled. Like I have a little space that is my own. It's a very good feeling. As humans we seem to have this need to have a little place of our own. I think guys are less likely to admit what is obvious about women, but we have a nesting instict as well. We just don't feel right until we know where our toothbrush is going to be when we wake up and where our stuff will be safely stowed when we go out for the day. And a place to sit or lie down and be comfortable when we're tired. It just seems to be a basic need. But it is something Jesus didn't have. At least not during his recorded ministry years. It is another way our High Priest is able to feel our pain. The knawing when we are unsettled. It's amazing the many seemingly insignificant things that are recorded about Jesus' human experience that prove his ability to "be touched with the feeling of our infirmities." -Hebrews 4:15
Jesus replied, "Foxes have holes and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head." - Matthew 8:20
Do those wings look familiar?
I've been bouncing around a lot the last six months. Staying here and there. A guest. A vagabond. A stint sleeping in a spare room in a downtown office where I cobbled together a make-shift shower in the bathroom. All in all an extended period, the longest of my life, of a feeling of homelessness. In fact, one night when I was staying downtown, after a long day of working outside in the heat, my old grubby clothes filthy and sweaty, I was walking down the street in an area full of night clubs, expensive cars, and trendy people dressed up for a night of partying. It is also an area where lots of street people like to panhandle. The dichotomy of humanity is striking. So, I'm walking along, feeling like myself, and happened to have a few chance interactions when suddenly I realized I was being perceived as a homeless person. It was strange. And then I thought, "Wait a minute. I AM homeless!" So, anyway, on to my point.
I finally have pretty much settled into my 10'x11' space. I got back a bed/desk from semi-permanent loan (like for eight years) to a friend. I had built it for my son who used it for a number of years. Again, I never dreamed I'd ever sleep on it myself, but it's my bed now. And I got myself a little love-seat and a nice office chair. And bought some lumber and built some simple storage solutions. And a few lights. The dark walls of the room really soak up light.
Okay, so FINALLY, here is my point: I finally feel a little bit settled. Like I have a little space that is my own. It's a very good feeling. As humans we seem to have this need to have a little place of our own. I think guys are less likely to admit what is obvious about women, but we have a nesting instict as well. We just don't feel right until we know where our toothbrush is going to be when we wake up and where our stuff will be safely stowed when we go out for the day. And a place to sit or lie down and be comfortable when we're tired. It just seems to be a basic need. But it is something Jesus didn't have. At least not during his recorded ministry years. It is another way our High Priest is able to feel our pain. The knawing when we are unsettled. It's amazing the many seemingly insignificant things that are recorded about Jesus' human experience that prove his ability to "be touched with the feeling of our infirmities." -Hebrews 4:15
Jesus replied, "Foxes have holes and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head." - Matthew 8:20
Do those wings look familiar?
posted by wingman at 7:59 AM
2 Comments:
Your "Jack of all trades" has come in handy again...you've nested well. Now you can relax, pick up that guitar and play us a tune. God is good!
Looks like a cozy niche!
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