family – The Deep End of the Pool

My girls and I were recently invited by some very generous family members to accompany them to Bonita Beach in Florida for an unexpected vacation. For those of you who haven’t been there, Bonita Beach is on the west side of the peninsula just south of Ft. Myers. This trip was such a gift to us. Because of COVID-19, our previously made plans to travel had been cancelled. We had resigned ourselves to the fact there would be no vacation for us this year. That all changed when we got the call about this opportunity. Imagine our surprise to learn our enormous beach house didn’t just have its own pool, it backed up to our own private private beach area. Take it from me, this is how you quarantine in style!

Arriving at The Biltmore Beach house in Bonita Beach.

When I say the house was enormous, I am not kidding. This house had three stories and an elevator. It had multiple balconies. It had a fourth floor watch tower complete with a telescope for additional star-gazing and long-range viewing of the gulf. When we arrived, we were shown to our own rooms on the second floor. This place was huge! There was room to spread out in our own space, but also to live communally with family. There were movie nights, games, and home-cooked meals at a big, big table. There were days at the pool, walks on the beach, intimate conversations, and lots and lots of laughter. What a week!

I posted a vacation photo on social media on one of the first nights we were there. I captioned the photo with one word: “Heaven”. I used that caption in a metaphorical kind of way. But after I did, I started thinking about Heaven. When I was a kid, I thought heaven sounded boring. My childlike mind envisioned white robes, halos, harps and floating clouds. I couldn’t imagine spending forever in that kind of space. Heaven sounded like the absence of fun.

The Bible has a lot to say about Heaven. These are some of Jesus’ own words in John 14: 2-3. “In my Father’s house are many mansions. If it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you.” This passage used to confuse me. After all, how can there be many mansions IN a house? I know God is big enough that his house COULD contain mansions for all of us. Still, I couldn’t quite reconcile the thought of having my very own mansion IN God’s house.

Several years ago, a vocal group by the name of Audio Adrenaline released a song titled, “Big House.” The song received incredible radio airplay. Everyone who listened to Christian radio knew the song. Do you remember how everyone could sing along to the words to “Don’t worry. Be happy” or “Hakuna Matata” when these songs were released? “Big House” was that kind of song. The words were catchy.

“I don’t know where you lay your head
Or where you call your home
I don’t know where you eat your meals
Or where you talk on the phone
I don’t know if you got a cook
A butler or a maid
I don’t know if you got a yard
With a hammock in the shade

Come and go with me
To my Father’s house
Come and go with me
To my Father’s house

It’s a big, big house
With lots and lots of room
A big, big table
With lots and lots of food
A big, big yard
Where we can play football
A big, big house
It’s my Father’s house

All I know is a big ole house
With rooms for everyone
All I know is lots a land
Where we can play and run
All I know is you need love
And I’ve got a family
All I know is you’re all alone
So why not come with me?”

Songwriters: Kelly Nickels / Mick Cripps / Philip Lewis / Steve Riley / Traci Gunns Big House lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Songtrust Ave

First century Middle Eastern culture was a very patriarchal culture. It was also a very communal culture. When a son (usually around 18 years of age) became betrothed, or engaged, to a very young girl (usually around 11-12 years of age), his father would begin to add a room onto the family home for them to live in. When the room was finally ready and it met all the father’s specifications, he would tell his son to go get his bride. After the wedding, this young woman would leave her home and family and be assimilated as a member of her husband’s family. As additional babies were birthed, or more sons married, more rooms were added to make room for the growing family. They spent their lives in a BIG House that was also a loving, family community.

Jesus understood the culture of the day he was living in. He used an example he knew his disciples would understand. In his example, God represents the Father, Jesus represents the bridegroom, and we are the bride. When our room is finally ready, the Father will let Jesus know. Then he will come and get us so we can live where he lives. Forever home. Forever a family. Life in community. Belonging. Sharing purpose. Sharing laughter. Sharing love.

The newer THE MESSAGE Bible translates John 14:2-3 this way: “There is plenty of room for you in my Father’s home. If that weren’t so, would I have told you that I’m on my way to get a room ready for you? And if I’m on my way to get your room ready, I’ll come back and get you so you can live where I live.”

I still can’t fully understand what Heaven will be like. But I know this. I don’t need a mansion. I just need a room in God’s big house.

Now, where did I put that football?

My siblings, Cathy and Dan and me standing in front of our childhood home, built by our Dad – April 2019

Last weekend my siblings and I began the process of cleaning out my mom’s house. She has been in memory care for over a year and won’t be returning home. My brother, sister and I agreed to meet to begin the process of going through 40+ years of clothes, furniture, knick-knacks and photos. The task seemed daunting and if I am going to be honest, I was dreading the trip immensely.

As I prepared to make the solo, 5-hour drive to Northern Kentucky, my husband, the Music Man, hugged me and said, “I know you are not looking forward to this trip. Remember, it’s all just ‘stuff.’” I knew he was right. The truth is, I didn’t feel a huge attachment to much of the ‘stuff’ in the house. But the nostalgia of the moment threatened to overtake me as I began the trip. So many memories fill that space. My dad built that house. We moved in when I was in middle school. I remember we found a snake in my bedroom the day we moved in. That little scaly critter had hitched a ride inside via a box of my things that had been sitting outside in the yard waiting to get loaded in and unpacked. I hate snakes. I really hate them. So that intro to my new bedroom was rocky at best.

I looked up the definition of nostalgia. It is a “longing or wistful affection for the past, typically for a period or place with happy personal associations.” In other words, it is a time or a place that gives you all the feels. This home was that place for me.

Mom’s handwriting on the outside of the envelope where she saved my childhood poems written to her or other significant people.

Upon arriving at the house, my brother and sister met me in the front yard to take a few photos. Then we went inside to get to work. We started with all of the bedroom closets. Oh my goodness! One thing this trip accomplished was to motivate me to put my own house (and closets) in order. Who knew that closets and dresser drawers could hold so much? But how fun it was to see what mom held dear.

There was the envelope simply titled, “Lori’s Poems”. Inside she had kept all of the poetry I had written to her over the years. Knowing that her memory was failing due to her dementia, my always organized mom left herself and us little notes, or breadcrumbs as my sister called them, to lead us to important papers or items of sentiment. She even left little baggies with each of the granddaughters’ names with a piece of jewelry made by her dad, my grandfather, in his jewelry shop in the basement of his home. Written on those baggies were instructions that each girl was to receive their piece upon their graduation from high school.

There were recipes written in both my mom’s and my grandmother’s handwriting, journals and bibles where she had written her thoughts, and boxes of photographs. There were so many photographs.

A very young Mom and Dad
My sweet momma, two months before I was born.
Easter 1973. Matching dresses by Mom.

There is an old Amy Grant song called, “Heirlooms.” The lyrics to that song describe perfectly how I feel about those photos. Those lyrics are:

Up in the attic,
Down on my knees.
Lifetimes of boxes,
Timeless to me.

Letters and photographs,
Yellowed with years,
Some bringing laughter,
Some bringing tears.

Time never changes,
The memories, the faces
Of loved ones, who bring to me,
All that I come from,
And all that I live for,

And all that I’m going to be.
My precious family
Is more than an heirloom to me.

Meeting my new baby brother, Dan. I was two years old in this photo.

My family was not perfect. Over the decades and generations my family has seen its fair share of hardship through illness, financial challenges, divorce, and loss. But these hardships were offset with goodness, kindness, generosity, love and laughter. These people that I came from? They were real, human, and so very special. Their decency, patriotism, hospitality and love of God and country have made me and my siblings who we are. It has also influenced our own little families.

My great-grandpa Shotwell. He has his arm around my Momma.
Rose Shotwell, my great grandmother, holding her son, my great uncle Clifford.

My grandmother, Ruth, (on the right) standing beside her sister, Naomi. If you know the bible story, you know why I love that these are their names. My momma is standing in front .

I have said a number of times to friends that my childhood was idyllic, and that it has seemed I have lived a charmed life. Here’s the reality. There is no such thing as a charmed life. But there is such a thing as living in the shadow of God’s favor. I am becoming more and more aware of his favor shown to me and my family. As a matter of fact, I have begun to ask God daily to pour his favor all over us. There’s a great verse in Numbers 6:25 (TLB) that says, “May the Lord bless and protect you; may the Lord’s face radiate with joy because of you; may he be gracious to you, show you his favor, and give you his peace.” This verse could easily become a prayer that you pray daily over yourself and your family. God’s favor is a gift that he is more than OK with us asking him to give us.

At two years of age, I wanted to try out this new contraption called a hair dryer.

We aren’t done cleaning out my mom’s house. We all return in a few weeks. I am actually looking forward to going back. The treasure of these memories are calling me. Because as Dr. Seuss said, “Sometimes you will never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory.”

Tag: family

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