During our children’s growing up years our family had the uncanny ability to find our way into the smallest space of our home to gather for meaningful conversation. It would usually start with two and slowly, one by one, another would wander in until we were all there chattering and laughing. Those moments have been gold nuggets that I’ve ferreted away in my memory bank. I draw them out from time to time just to hold and remember. Sometimes I revisit them when I’m stashing another nugget away.
One very large and memorable crowded space conversation that gleams up at me when I open the treasure box transpired after my return from a trip to Israel. I’d spent 10 days with my sister and her husband exploring the footsteps of Jesus. When I arrived home I was exhausted. We’d been in the air and on the road for twenty plus hours. I do not sleep well while traveling. I needed a bed. However, the trip from the airport to our house had been long enough that my first stop was the bathroom.
I can not remember who was the first to find me there. By nature of the location, I am guessing it was our daughter. The bathroom in our home at the time was quite large, with a long vanity opposite the wall that holds all of the necessary fixtures. My guest plopped down on the counter of this vanity while I washed my hands and face. Questions came pouring out like the water pouring from the faucet. I dried my hands and settled in on the counter to share my stories. One after another of my family wandered in. Within minutes, there we were, the five Grabers elbow to elbow in the bathroom–talking, laughing, catching up on ten days apart. That scene has played out numerous times over the last 24 years, through multiple moves to new homes–in laundry rooms, bathrooms, large closets, small cars, and king size beds.
Last night I was given another gold nugget to bank. I’d wandered to the room in my parent’s home that has become a temporary haven while I await the renovation of a new home. Two of our young adult children presently make their home in this house, our son Aaron and our daughter Rachelle. I’d settled in on the bed with several rows of comfy pillows as a backrest. My laptop was open and I was primed to click the start button. In wandered my son’s girlfriend Hannah, with her darling little family dog, Ike. They were killing time while Aaron was working out. We were catching up on all that has been transpiring in her space when my youngest child, Rachelle, came home from work. She found her way up the stairs and on to the bed. Our conversation turned serious as we shared hopes and fears for the future. I was honored by Hannah’s transparency and desire to connect.
When Aaron finished his workout Hannah excused herself, but Rachelle remained. The conversation turned to relationship and it continued in that vein as we talked about Chelle’s dreams for the love of her life. It was serious; it was silly. It was hopeful and happy. We remembered the little boys and young men from the past that she has had a crush on (or I have targeted as marriage material for her). From the list she picked one that would be a mirror of her hoped for love. I was honored to be invited into her beautiful, trusting heart.
As this conversation was winding down I heard another set of footprints climbing the stairs. In sauntered Aaron. It was late, and Hannah was on her way home. He was compelled to confirm some of the family news she’d passed on from our earlier conversation. Another thirty minutes passed as he teased and tormented his sister and I. It was 11:30 when they headed to their respective rooms. I was left holding my shiny, new gold piece.
I settled under the covers, turned out the lights, and thought about this latest small space gathering. The warmth of being honored by the presence of my children and entrusted with their hopes and dreams was magnanimous. Then it hit me. Even as I am honored by my children entering into my space and sharing their hearts, my heavenly Father is honored when I come to him, to sit in his presence, to share stories, to reveal my hopes and dreams. To this I have been created, to share a relationship with Father God. It is a gift that I can give to him, a gold nugget that he will stash away for our final and forever sharing of time and space. He will open the lock box and say “Remember when?” There in the box will be all the treasure he stored up as I honored him with my presence, my time, my talents, my service, my love shown to the world. Then I will hear the promised words:
Matthew 25: 34b ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world.’
Today I am celebrating small spaces and the gift of honor that they represent to me.
