The fruit of righteousness will be peace; the effect of righteousness will be quietness and confidence forever. My people will live in peaceful dwelling places, in secure homes, in undisturbed places of rest. (Isaiah 32: 17, 18)
I live alone now. (Well actually, I do live with two cats but they don't count; they're so oblivious). My son has married and moved out of the home; my daughter has graduated and moved out of the home; my ex-wife has moved out of the home. So I am left by myself in a four bedroom, two bath house that carries a million memories that echo off the empty walls. I worry a little and am anxious about the future. Sometimes, just to mix things up a little, I wonder if I shouldn't try sleeping in a different bedroom every night or showering and shaving upstairs once in a while, but that would be approaching a lunatic fringe so I stay where I am, nestled in the bottom floor master bedroom with an occasional foray into the kitchen or bathroom.
For financial reasons more than anything else, I have put my home up for sale. This is a rather mixed bag of excitement and depression. I must confess that I broke down a little when they planted the For Sale sign out front. First, you are clinically instructed by the realtor to de-personalize your home so that every conceivable detail of the previous family is not plainly visible to the naked eye in the minutest sense. You must clean your home so that every metal sparkles and every surface gleams. I must leap into an active frenzy of cleaning power whenever a public showing is scheduled. (This is an extraordinary challenge for a bachelor). There must be no dust bunnies and no smells other than the fresh fragrance of Febreze plug-in air fresheners and spiced cinnamon pumpkin Yankee candles.
And so I am left with this sterile, decontaminated, cheerless shell of a showroom-quality model "home". God knows my situation. I have prayed to Him. The excitement of selling my home is mingled with the dim prospect of moving into another (smaller) home and still living alone; you cannot entirely escape the isolation.
As I tend towards melancholy, this future would look rather dim except for two very shining hopes: the Word of God and the promised salvation granted by Jesus Christ. I need not worry or be anxious about anything. Isaiah's chapter 32 has some reassuring words for me. If I continue my (often feeble) attempts to aspire to righteousness, the result of those attempts will be peace, and the effect of that righteousness will be quietness (sometimes difficult for me) and confidence (also sometimes difficult for me). God has promised that I, as one of his confessed and professed people, will live in a peaceful home, a secure home. And I should strongly follow the admonishment of St. Paul to be content in every situation so no matter where I end up, I am looking forward to an undisturbed place of rest ...hopefully on a new Sleepy's Serta-Perfect mattress.
Nothing in my hand I bring,
Simply to thy cross I cling; (excerpt from the hymn Rock of Ages)
Dear Heavenly Father,
Constantly remind us that a home is nothing without your presence. We need your Word to comfort us, guide us, stimulate us, and inspire us to righteous lives no matter where we dwell. Our favorite old rocking chair and gilded photos of Aunt Mildred are nothing compared to the delight of sharing the good news of your Son's gift. Let it be so forever more until we reach our final resting place. Amen.
Contributed by Donald
Monday July 20, 2015
Liturgical Year B: Week 34
Liturgical Color: Green
Sunday Gospel reading: Proper11
Eighth Sunday after Pentecost