The Writing on the Wall

We grew up in a big drafty farmhouse.  Not the comfortable, shabby chic type that’s been swarming our Instagram feeds lately. No sign of fall pumpkins and corn stalks and woolly throws draped over an antique rocker on the porch.  Nope.  Just a big old house full of family and love and lessons learned years later.

The smell of a roaring fire warmed the rooms and water came icy cold, straight from the well.  It brought with it a special taste and trickled in the pipes at a miserably slow pace.  Remember standing in your own shower this morning, with hard pellets of water belting your skin?  This was nothing like that at all. I’m sure our feeble water pressure would have been much more frustrating had we known differently.  But we were children, blessedly unaware.

Adolescence is a hormone-driven rollercoaster ride of horror and apparently, I had a free pass at the Amusement Park.  No fun was had by anyone.  My parents were pretty unreasonable.  For example, they thought it best for me to shower.  I had much more important things on the docket.  I can’t imagine now what they were, but they were important.

Don’t get me wrong, I was more than relieved to outgrow the years of “pile-‘em-all-in” sibling tub time.  As a toddler, my little brother felt it necessary to produce one more submarine in the mix, if you know what I mean.  Gross.  Water must have been sparse.  We dared not waste it.

So, shower time it was. 

Although the house itself was huge, it sported only one bathroom.  Cracked plaster walls in the shower were camouflaged by wallpaper mimicking old-time newspaper auction notices.  “Hear ye, hear ye.”  It wasn’t until this very moment I realized how peculiar this sounds.  Did anyone else have wallpaper in their shower?

Day after day, as I begrudgingly stood, naked as a jaybird, with hot water delicately dripping down my back, I read the wallpaper.

They could force me to stand there, but I would cooperate no further.

So each day I read and reread that meaningless wallpaper, as the hot water tank drained cold.  And guess what?  Without intending to, I memorized every one of those words.

I remember approaching my dad, the thrill of accomplishment pumping hot in my chest.  What a feat of memorization!  Wouldn’t he be proud?

Having captured his full attention, he sat and listened patiently as I rhymed off the date, time and details of some imaginary estate auction straight from Colour Your World. 

Turned out he was not all that impressed. 

“Why would you waste your time, your headspace with that?”  My dad was astonished.

Not the reaction I was going for.

Years later, I finally realize what he meant. I’m beginning to understand the important lesson that is seeping into my brain after decades have passed and, my friend, here is what I am learning:

1. Words we see regularly take root in our minds.
2. By simple placement, we can choose what to fill our brains with.
3. It is imperative that we determine to fill our minds with God’s Truth.

In this culture of division, fear and uncertainty, it is more important than ever to marinate our minds in the Word.  God (the great Promise Keeper) vows to:

• Infuse us with His perfect peace as we focus our minds on Him.
• Open our spiritual eyes so we will know, and be reminded of His incomparable power –power capable of raising the dead!
• Saturate us with lasting joy despite our circumstances.

I am so thankful for Hope flowing abundantly – much more abundantly than the water pressure in that old farmhouse.

♥ Tess

You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you. Isaiah 26:3

 I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people, and his incomparably great power for us who believe. That power is the same as the mighty strength.
Ephesians 1:18-19

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