Saturday, October 31, 1998

New home will require adjustment

By Tom Schaefer

Knight Ridder Newspapers

WICHITA, Kan -- The last load of rakes, shovels and clay pots was crammed in the back of a pickup. A short drive later and we were there.

Our new house.

For 24 years, Mary and I had called a gray Dutch Colonial in Wichita's College Hill our home. In it, we had reared our two children, Jami and Joel, and had put up with all the frustrations of an occasional wet basement and an ever-present cracked driveway. If we were to move, we concluded, now was the time to do it.

Even though our "new" '50s ranch-style house was barely three miles from the College Hill abode, a greater distance loomed. Uprooting two decades of memories and restructuring personal living habits doubtless would be unsettling.

Before the move, I tried to be Solomonlike in deciding what to keep and what to pitch: "I will throw away all my back issues of Christian Century magazine if you'll agree to trash your stacks of Better Homes & Gardens." (The negotiations were of Netanyahu/Arafat intensity.)

As contents of cabinets and drawers were packed or discarded, I repeated a Bible verse to stay focused on the task: "Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth where moth and rust consume ..." (Matthew 6:19). (That mantra allowed me to sever my relationship with, among other things, several pairs of torn pajamas.)

Neither Mary nor I was sure how the move would affect us. When we locked the doors on North Yale Street for the last time, would we feel a tug of emotion as we remembered Joel's reckless ride on his Big Wheel tricycle, tearing down the driveway oblivious to the street ahead? (Guardian angels also come in the guise of watchful neighbors.)

Would we think of Jami on her first day of kindergarten, with briefcase in hand, confidently walking down the sidewalk to catch the school bus? (And wasn't that just yesterday?) Time and closing dates, however, wait for no one.

Through the years, Mary and I had remodeled our house several times -- stripping wallpaper, painting walls, fixing plumbing problems. At 53 and in good health, we wanted to fix up a house that could accommodate extended family should the need arise. Our new house was just what we had hoped for.

The previous owners were moving to a new assisted living home. And leaving their house of four decades was no easier for them. (Why is it so hard to say good-bye to a brick or wooden structure that, even with years of enjoyment, also can cause untold hours of exasperation?)

Finally, the day arrived. It was time to leave. The doors were locked. The truck was loaded with the last of our belongings. Five minutes later, we were at our new house.

For those who have moved more often than we have, our adventure may sound uneventful, perhaps even overly dramatic. Perhaps it was.

After all, we were not, like Abraham, called by God to settle in a strange land. We were not forced to leave our house because of war or natural disaster, as millions of people around the world are forced to do. We chose our house, we chose to leave. That in itself is a blessing from God.

Still, we have to adjust to this house, like newlyweds who have to learn each other's peculiarities. It'll take time -- and a lot of patience. But one loving gesture helped me get past leaving our house of 24 years.

Shortly before we moved, Jami sent us a card with a personal note. Even though she now lives in Kansas City, the thought of losing "her home" in Wichita had been upsetting to her. In his own way, Joel was telling us the same thing.

The note Jami sent included a verse from the New Testament: "We know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose" (Romans 8:28).

And then she wrote: "To Mom and Dad -- I know our new house will be our 'home.' I love you." The card is affixed to the refrigerator.

In the changes we are experiencing as a couple and as a family, I pray that it will be our daily reminder of what a house is and, by the grace of God, what it always will be.

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(Tom Schaefer writes about religion and ethics for the Wichita (Kan.) Eagle. Write to him at the Wichita Eagle, P.O. Box 820, Wichita, KS 67201, or send e-mail to tschaefer(at)wichitaeagle.com )

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(c) 1998, The Wichita Eagle (Wichita, Kan.).

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