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Writer's pictureLiz

A Prayer for Those Who've Climbed My Stairs

With a countdown clock ticking for our move, Paul and I are knee deep in home repairs. More specifically, Paul is painting and I am helping in whatever way I can that doesn't involve a paintbrush. Cutting-in is a skill, and I don't have it : )


Today I found myself seated on our staircase, removing the painters tape from around the freshly painted trim and then cleaning up the pesky spots of paint that had snuck under the protective barrier. The task was monotonous and my mind wandered. Eventually, I began to think of all the people who have climbed these stairs during the last three years. The mental catalog quickly grew. Neighbors, coworkers, visiting family and friends, my children's schoolmates, small group members, our alaskan friends and bible study members. They came over for game nights, pot-lucks, marriage mentoring, counseling, men's bible studies, girls nights out, PWOC gatherings, birthday parties, Christmas parties, Memorial day parties (we like parties, apparently) and lots of normal dinners with friendly conversation (and a game of table-tennis or two for good measure.)


So many feet have touched these stairs.


I love this.


(As an aside, Paul and I both grew up in homes were the metaphorical doors were always open. Though dissimilar in so many ways (oh, the stories we could tell about learning to adapt... : ) our disparate families mirrored each other when it came to being hospitable. Whether in the suburbs of Detroit or the farm land of Bucks County, our homes seems to be magnets for people. Missionary families or traveling evangelists sleeping in spare rooms, neighborhood kids playing hide-and-seek inside or swimming in our pool outside, family visiting from out of town, church functions, homeschool functions, and neighbors and friends regularly over for Sunday dinners. And though I'm sure this rhythm of hospitality caused stress and frustration for our parents, Paul and I agree that we don't remember the angst. What we do remember were homes where everyone was welcome, everyone was valued.


Interestingly, other than basic injunctions to be polite and respectful to visitors and to help clean the house before guests arrived, I don't recall a moment when my mother or father sat me down and specifically explained the "how's" and the "why's" of their hospitality. So much of parenting is about what we DO and not what we say, isn't it? They just lived, and I just watched. I absorbed. And eventually, I mimicked. It's parenting IRL : )



As I pulled up tape and cleaned, I went from remembering to praying. With each step, I added to the prayer and it sounded something like this,


"God, so many feet have touched these steps. You continually orchestrate my life and have graciously filled these last three years with amazing people. My home has welcomed your sons and daughters, people who have been the hands and feet of Jesus to my family. You've sent children to love my children and friends to love me. During the dark winters I've had lighthearted get-togethers that warmed my heart. Through the glorious summers I've been able to share the sunlit hours and stunning scenery with friends. Thank you for the gift of others. Thank you for laughter and good conversations. Thank you for [insert all the people that came to mind when I thought of these times] and the opportunity to learn from them and enjoy their company.

God so many feet have walked up these stairs. Some came with contented, joyful hearts while others, I know, walked in with smiles on their faces that masked a heaviness inside. I pray for [insert friends who are currently facing various struggles.] Where the burdens can be lifted, I pray that in your grace you would take them from weary shoulders. But if the weight must be borne, I pray that they would let others help them carry it. Sustain the hurting, Father. Remind them that they are not alone. If they need a word of encouragement, I ask that your Spirit would touch my heart and speak in my ear so that I can offer them your message of hope. Let my voice be your voice to them.


God, soon this climb will be made by others. So as I leave this house, I ask that the seeds sown here would reap a bountiful harvest. I ask that the words heard by [insert all the people who have come here for counseling, mentoring, and bible studies] would bear bountiful fruit. Graciously mute from minds anything spoken in error but amplify those things that your Spirit can use to either prune or fertilize hearts. Lord God please bless my children as they leave this house, these friends, this stable environment. In many ways, they live a rootless life. Holy Spirit, please use the faith, memories, and truth which they've gained while here as anchors for their hearts during the storms of upcoming change. Help them remember. Help me remember. Help Paul remember. Use your still, clear, and powerful voice to remind us of truth when the chaos howls in our ears and buffets our souls.


God so many feet have entered my home, ascended these steps. Help me to always measure my life not in objects, but in lives. Help me remember that people are always more important than things. When the temptation arises to close myself off from others due to fear, frustration, greed or discomfort remind me that all I have is from you. This house is a gift, these stairs are a gift, the table, the couch, the toys, the food...all good gifts from you. Help me to hold these gifts with open hands. Let me use them to bless others and in doing so, find the reward you promised to those who are joyful givers. May my hand always be open, my door always open and my heart always open to anyone you place in my path.


Thank you God for three years of using these steps. As we leave this house, go before and prepare for us our next home, our next flight of stairs. Help us to walk in your light, glorify you and enjoy you (and your blessings) forever.


Amen."


Ok, it wasn't exactly those words...and I wasn't getting weepy as I peeled tape and prayed. But those were the thoughts that I had in general. Today I just wrote them down and reiterated my heart to God : )


Anyway, the mundane task became a beautiful one and I came away from the job with a grateful heart. One wonders what spiritual experience I'll have as I scrub baseboards or vacuum out the vents! But that's the liturgy of the ordinary, right? God often meets me in moments of monotony and reminds me of something profound. He steps into our normal and infuses it with meaning. I hope that today you have a moment like this and that you leave it encouraged.

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