Blessed Old House
This blessed old house, made with stick and stone has slowly and lovingly become a home.
Board by board, room by room we sculpted and honed her, loved and adorned her.
She is not perfect, no far from it, but she is perfectly full, bulging at the seams with love and blessings overpoured.
If walls could speak, they would tell the tales, of lives lived, babies born, and loved ones gone on. They have heard the cries of joy, and the laughter of life. They have witnessed strife and heard the prayers of the heart, the challenges of life.
This blessed old house, now happily a home, shelters us from the storm. Her steady and strong bones protect us at night, we depend upon her, ever watchful, ever in sight.
This blessed old house, may be tattered and torn, but always ready, always in form. From the peak of the roof, to the earth below the floor, I am proud that she chose us, loved us, to help her restore.
I will always hold dear a place in my heart for this blessed old house, and her gifts she has given, for she has gave life to a family full of livin’.