Dwelling

“In my mother’s house there are many dwelling places. . .” paraphrase of John 14: 2

These words echoed in my head last week as we began the work of helping my mom move from her home of 60 years into a senior independent living apartment in her St. Louis Park neighborhood. After 60 years of living in one place there is so much stuff and even more memories. I found myself dwelling in my thoughts as I created the household spreadsheet of what was to go where and with whom.

In the attic cedar closet was my mom’s wedding dress. We paused for a moment to talk as we brought down the cardboard box with Dayton’s written across the top. My mom and her mom had gone shopping for it. What a special day it had been for the two of them to leave Benson and make the 135 mile trip to downtown Minneapolis. It was a beautiful, tea length dress with satin buttons up the back. Mom’s wedding dress reminds Hannah, our daughter, of the dress she got to wear when she danced the part of snow in the Duluth Ballet’s production of the Nutcracker. She hopes to wear mom’s dress someday.

Also, in the attic is the cedar chest that my dad made in high school shop class. The chest is full of linens and a bed spread hand tatted by a someone long ago. We will empty it out so that the chest can go to my brother. Its cedar scent still preserves some of the memories of our dad who died over 36 years ago. My brother will also take Dad’s pea green wool Army coat hanging in the closet.

The attic also contains so much other stuff like my brother’s LPs -the Grateful Dead and Bob Dylan, shoe boxes filled with photos, and hangers of clothes no longer worn. Long ago, the attic was converted into a bedroom that I shared with my younger sister after our brother was born. We had so many late-night talks and battles in that room. I remember running masking tape down the middle of the floor to mark our separate sides. No more tape but still some great conversations.

Last weekend, I loaded my car with the wedding dress, my grandmother’s hand painted china and my great grandmother’s silverware. We shared special meals on those plates with their blue hand painted flowers on the rims. This beautiful china was pulled out for holiday dinners at my grandparents farm. Touching the plates and delicate cups brought the joy of remembering those people at whose table I once sat.

In my mother’s house there are many dwelling places. I have heard it said that a better translation of this verse is “in my mother’s household many people dwell”. After all it isn’t the place that makes a home, but the people. God’s household has such a wonderful variety of people. So many kinds of people with different experiences make God’s family. Yes, we all have different experiences even if we grew up in the same home.

In the end, we trust the one who goes before to prepare a place for us, whether that place is in an apartment, a different home or in a completely different realm.  The promise in chapter 14 begins in verse 1 with Jesus’ words, “Let not your hearts be troubled”.   May it be so for you wherever you find yourself dwelling.