Today we take a fascinating trip into Sparky’s office and delve deep into my twisted mind.
This is the house in which I now live. However, since this is the Internet age and there are as many browsers as there are electronic devices connected to the web at any given time, your viewing results may vary. If the picture is too small to discern any real detail, image a small two-story “starter” home with a small yard and a short driveway. It probably looks similar to houses in your neighborhood but mine’s a little older. Again, your browser may tweak the settings slightly but that’s where I live and, at least on my browser, that’s what it looks like.
I used to be one of the most anti-social, confrontational, in-your-face people you’d ever met. I was willing to back up anything at any time with aggressive action, not weak reaction. I was told under no uncertain terms by my spouse that if things didn’t change I would no longer be welcome at home. For those reasons among others, I was asked to leave*.
Knowing things weren’t good, I took an anger management class and really embraced the concepts and tools given during the course of instruction. I changed, but it either wasn’t enough or it was too late to reconcile and return home so I had to find a new home on a very limited budget. I found this place and I really, really like it.
The homeowner lives here also but he put me in charge as the caretaker for the house and its surrounding property. It’s not a bad gig most of the time. The house has multiple rooms and, because we’re on a hill, the homeowner likes me to keep all the lights on for any unoccupied rooms. Why? Although he doesn’t run a boarding house or a licensed hotel/motel (or even a B&B, for that matter) he thinks keeping the lights on encourages people who are tired, lost or hungry to stop by. Which, by the way, is exactly how I found him.
I used to have a lot of issues with that philosophy. It costs a lot of money to keep all the lights on. Moreover, keeping the lights on means you have to keep the rooms clean. It’s much easier to clean a room really, really clean once, turn off the light and shut the door. It’ll stay clean, right? Wrong. If the light’s on I can’t shut the door. Why? Those are the rules. As long as the homeowner is in his house all the rooms are his–even mine. If he wants to keep all the lights on all the time and he’s willing to pay for it, the lights stay on as long as he wants.
Between my revised post-anger-management attitude and the fact that I accept I’m living in someone else’s house where they make the rules, things have changed for the better. People recognize me and come up to embrace me and speak with me in the strangest places. Target, the UPS Store, Subway, a high school play, and even today at Kinko’s. Lots of people recognize me as that guy on the hill with all his lights on, which isn’t a bad thing at all.
If you live in a house with multiple rooms, try this: Open every door in every room and turn on every light in every room or closet. When you get up in the morning, mentally inventory everything in the house. When you’re ready, start walking around. Stop at every room and check that everything’s where it should be and that everything in the room is clean and presentable. If the homeowner walked in with you, would you be proud of the work he charged you with (i.e. keeping his house clean and organized)? If you do that every day for a few days you’ll see it’s not as tough or weird as it sounds.
If someone comes to the house in the middle of the night drawn by all the lights, I’m more than happy to speak with them and try to help them. Do I want them living there? Not necessarily, but if I can help point them in the direction of help I’ll do so.
Have you grown tired of this yet, having figured it out a long time ago? If not, here’s the spoiler: I’m talking about my spiritual beliefs, of course.
God, Creator of all things, gave me a spiritual house. Once I accepted, confessed and believed that He alone was God, He sent the Holy Spirit to dwell in my heart as the owner-in-fact of my mind, body and soul. I am the caretaker. However, that has a tremendous amount of responsibility. I decide who (or what) will cohabit with me in the house. If my thoughts and deeds (rooms in the house) are good and honorable, I have no problem keeping the door open for review and the light on so others can see what I’ve done and take note.
If my thoughts and deeds are not honest, wholesome or life-giving, I will probably want to shut the door, turn off the light and pretend it didn’t happen. That’s not setting a good example for me as a caretaker or as a parent.
So, what does this have to do with anything? I had to go to Kinko’s today to buy a hole punch. I got involved in a conversation with someone who recognized me from my church and wanted me to help them with some issues they’ve been having. I am not a pastor, a minister, someone with special healing powers or anything other than who I am. Regardless, this person wanted to talk about an issue with which they’re struggling and “felt in their heart” that I was approachable and could help them if by doing nothing else but praying for them.
A year ago I would have immediately assessed how to drop and incapacitate this stranger who approached me in the parking lot of Kinko’s. Today I held and comforted someone in need who sought my advice and prayer.
Our God is an awesome God.
*For the record, I never–not even once for pretend–yelled at, hit, threatened, belittled, called names or intimidated my spouse. My ignorance made me a stay-at-home, do-nothing jerk. All you He-Man, bad-ass, wannabes out there, I’ve got a plethora of reformed hard core gang members at my disposal who will tell you the same thing: Don’t be like we were. It’s a waste of time.