Palm Sunday–a Day to celebrate the Lord’s triumphal entry into Jerusalem. It is a cloudy, warm day in NW Arkansas, but five years ago, that was not the case. In 2013, on Monday, the day after Palm Sunday was memorable for being downright uncomfortable. A brisk wind blew snow in front of it; snow that settled over the grass and last fall’s leaves. Finally, the snow stopped but the wind stuck around. It made me thankful for my warm house and mindful that there are many without the blessing of a shelter from the cold.
Which brings me to the subject of houses. I sometimes wonder if houses contain an aura of the people who have lived there. Not ghosts, mind you, just a feeling of peace or joy or maybe sadness left behind like an imprint within the four walls. Mom stayed on in the house where they had lived several years after Dad died. She loved that house and the yard. She had a green thumb and the flowers showed that someone there cared for them. For a long time after Mom left, it was very hard to enter that house. The emptiness resonated. But then one day I realized the feeling I had was one of peace. I like to think it may be because my parents enjoyed living there and if there was ever an optimistic two people it was my dad and mom.
Then I think of another house where my family lived briefly when I was a teenager. I did not like that house and never felt comfortable there. No matter the temperature, the house never seemed to warm up. The house had a history. A man was building it for his fiancee but before the house was finished, the young lady died. Later, he did complete the house and married someone. Of course, all old houses are drafty which could account for the sound of doors opening or something like footsteps in the upstairs hall. If houses have an aura, that one was of sadness. But then, other people lived there later and felt perfectly at home so my active imagination may be at the bottom of it all. D’you think?
Why am I thinking about houses on Palm Sunday? Jesus said that He didn’t have a house, a place to lay His head. But, wherever He went, His followers had a sense of peace within. That peace would evaporate after the awful day of His crucifixion, but would return to warm their hearts and lives at His resurrection. Wherever the love of Christ resides, that place is warm and welcoming, whether it is a hut or a mansion. And, in a house or in a life, it is His love that makes the difference. (John 12:13)
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