THE BLUE HOUSE

I wrote this on July 4, 2015, in between therapy sessions. Interesting now to notice it was written on Independence Day! This was a part of processing many things. It was a healing piece as it helped me see things in a different perspective, brought closure on some things and helped me embrace the journey. This is me!

THE BLUE HOUSE

It was not my dream house. But I dared to dream anyway. The house had all of the elements of comfort and function, containing much more room and many more conveniences than our previous house. It was brand new! We did not build it, but it was ours.

It had a grand purpose, namely to nurture a growing family. Here is where memories would be made, lessons taught, lessons learned, covenants honored, sicknesses attended to and healed, storms weathered in protection and safety. It would be a sanctuary, a temple filled with love and service and joy, even a place where eventually another generation would visit. It was full of possibilities. It had all of the makings of a real home. It was simple and simply wonderful.

The acre of land it was on held many possibilities as well. And it was ours to shape and to form. Ours was a dream of self-sufficiency and home production – at least to the extent that an acre allowed. Animals would live there. There would be a garden and perhaps even a little rock-lined stream running through. Every tree and bush and flower would be carefully picked out and planted … not just for how it looked, but for what it had to offer nutritionally and medicinally. Of course there would be the grass and a swing set for the children. We would have great fun and satisfaction creating something that was meaningful to us, even if it was less ornate than some.

How strange it seemed to us to learn that our house drew the disdain of the neighbors. You see, it was blue. This was a subdivision that was looking for conformity and the blue, well, it did not conform, for it was not an earth tone like the other houses.  Not only that, it was not a stick-built house, rather built in a factory. Hard to tell just by looking at it, but still “they” knew. 

It was a sturdy house built on a sturdy basement foundation. It had a big porch on it; one of our favorite features. The garage was a side-facing garage, just as all the others were. It was simple and conservative on the outside with only siding for the exterior, unlike the others with their brick and stone and stucco.

When we closed on the house we were told that the neighbors all hated it and it was suggested that we please the neighbors by putting brick on the outside of the house…changing both the color and the appearance. It could look richer. 

Funny, our dreams did not include that. Yet, here in this place, the highest value was found in conformity and appearance, not substance nor purpose. The blue house stood out not because there was anything wrong with it, but because it was different. 

It was a rough way to start, knowing that others were looking at us with such a judgment that put us below them. Our dreams for the house were still there, but now they were accompanied by an air of self-consciousness that was not there before. There were the comments and the looks we got, even suggestions and encouragement to conform to some ideal that somehow would automatically make everyone happy and bring unity to the subdivision and value to their lives.

We carried on, working to make our house our home regardless of what others thought and pursued the fulfillment of its grand purpose. Still, it was hard at times to be the different one. In the end, I never really felt at home in my house or in my subdivision. Leaving it behind and moving on was both bitter and sweet.

It seems like throughout my life I have often walked my own path; marched to the beat of a different drummer. Truthfully, my blue house was not the only thing that made me different or that made me stand out. Many of the circumstances of my life and the choices that I have made and the direction that I have been given from heaven have resulted in a life that has little resemblance to most people that I meet or know. 

I often have felt different from others and have often grappled with what that means in terms of my value or where I belong. In fact, I have even been told I am different, or more gently put at times, unique or rare and beautiful. My “uniqueness” has drawn both respect and disgust. 

It definitely can be said that I do not conform to man’s ideals, rather I walk a deliberate path of obedience and integrity in submission to God’s ideals and direction and in harmony with who I really am.

Upon contemplating the blue house, I realize that the blue house is symbolic of me. It represents who I am. The house is the symbol of daring to be different, unique, rare and beautiful, even if it means standing out, even if it means getting looks and comments. It is a symbol of substance and purpose. It is a symbol of simplicity. It is about daring to dream, even when that dream looks different than what others dream. It is about knowing that different is just different, not less, not more. It is about not just being different, but making a difference. It is about being me; being authentic, genuine and having integrity. It is about self-sufficiency and submission to God.

What a beautiful insight God has given me! I have never loved my blue house more! This is me, daring to be different, unique, rare and beautiful, embracing all of the possibilities, living my purpose and daring to dream. Praise God! I may not speak His language yet, but He knows me and He speaks mine. God is gracious!

Hope on! Journey on!

Molly Grace Daniels