Below is a lovely story shared by one of our
members of Messianic Keepers At Home. When asked if she wrote it - this
is what she said:
I did the typing but Abba Father gave me the words yesterday
morning after prayers and after my son left for school.
I hope and pray that each who reads are blessed, inspired, moved ,
whatever YHWH wants in each one's life to get from it. Yes, please feel free to share it.
It is wonderful parallel of our how YHVH works in our lives.
I am blessed to share it with you.
The House and the Carpenter
by
Chelle Peretz
12 March,2013
The house was built by my parents. It was
okay I guess, they did the best they could. It was no mansion and most who
passed by it never even noticed it or visited. As time went on it became cluttered
and fell to disrepair, weathered by storms, damaged by those invited in who
just didn't care. A wine stain here and there some dents in walls, rooms began
to fill up with things that really were of no worth. A place I think, not much
unlike most other places. We pass by them looking, but we don't stop in to say
hello or give a hand, we don't get to know our neighbors, we just go about our
lives, busying ourselves and all the while, the clutter remains and sometimes
we add to it, finding and keeping worthless things we think mean so much to us,
but do they really? Before I knew it, I was overwhelmed with junk and the house
was beginning to feel and show the ravages of time and carelessness.
One day, many years into ownership or
inheritance of this place, an acquaintance, someone with whom I had been thrown
into a situation, then by chance got to know somewhat, introduced me to
someone. He was a carpenter by trade. Moving here and there, never settling in
one place as it seemed most people only wanted small jobs done for them and
then they just went on about their business forgetting He was there. When
someone else needed some work done, He just moved on to the next, invited in to
do small repairs. Most of His customers allowed Him to stay in their homes in a
guest room while He did the work. Most times He didn't even sup with them. Some
might say that most of these folk had really bad manners when it came to
keeping guests. I was no different.
He came to my place and I allowed Him a
room to stay in. A guest room. He brought only one thing with Him as it seemed
He didn't have luggage of any sort, yet His clothes were always immaculate and
clean and in order. The one thing He brought was a Book. I asked Him about it
and He told me that if I wanted to know what the story was about, I must read
it for myself. I opened it up a few times, but never got to sit down for any
real length of time as I was always on the go, trying to work, making ends meet
or dealing with other problems which had nothing or everything to do with my
home. In the beginning it was very small jobs. For some odd reason, I didn't
trust Him with the big repairs. There was a lot of clutter in the room He
stayed, so I cleared a little out to make enough room for Him. As much that is,
as I was willing to clean up. He didn't eat with me, He just took His meals in
His room, what little I was willing to cook and prepare that is. I'm not sure
why, but He stayed for a long time. So long in fact, I began to not really
notice much as I got used to just "knowing " He was in the house
with me, but hardly stirred, hardly came out at all except to fix the
small odd jobs I gave Him. He especially stayed quiet when I entertained guests
that would come over. Never complaining, He would have to fix the damage done
by these whom I thought were decent folk.
Then, one day, I found out I had new
neighbors. Seemed friendly enough in the beginning, but as time went on, I
found out otherwise. They began dropping their trash in my yard, encroaching on
my property, harassing just for the sake of harassing. Some have names for
people like these. Some do.
I was working a lot then, trying to keep my
house going, but the more I worked the more the house fell into shambles, even
though my Carpenter guest fixed the small things I asked, the bigger things
just didn't get done. You see, He only did what I asked Him to do. Otherwise,
He just stayed in the guestroom, not asking anything of me and only coming out
when I needed any work done. I don't know where He kept His tools, but every
job I gave Him, He was faithful to fix and mostly did the work when I wasn't
even there or aware or looking.
As time went by these bad neighbors just
kept adding to the problem, causing more refuse and I just couldn't keep up.
So, I had reached the end of my rope and asked if He could help. Actually,
"asked" is mild, I was in tears over this, a lot of angst and
despair.
So, He came out and "fixed" the
problem. Not only did they stop throwing their trash in my yard, but they
stopped the offending manner with which they had treated me so unjustly. I was
rendered speechless, but very grateful. One day, He said to me "Why don't
you rest, and read that Book I have?" "You know, the one you have
picked up from time to time, only glancing at?" Being ever so grateful
that He had fixed this big problem for me, I decided to do just that. I had
been wanting to read it anyway, very curious about what was in it. So, I began
to set aside time just for reading His Book.
In the process of time, I handed over to
Him larger repairs. He began to talk some. Not much, but we had small
conversations. I even made a small place at the table for meals on occasion. He
was never pushy, never demanding, never disrespectful. He asked for nothing in
return from me. I found myself wanting to spend more time with Him, talking and
getting to know Him, but life was so demanding, it just never seemed possible.
Sometimes, I felt guilty asking Him to do the work that needed doing, but
again, He never complained and was always faithful to fix the things I needed
fixed. Over time, it became clear, He sometimes had odd ways of making
those repairs and sometimes it took a long time working the job. Longer than I
would have thought necessary, but it was becoming abundantly clear, He was a
perfectionist of sorts. A few times I would ask Him to fix certain things, I
would go away for a time and when I came back, I would be shocked to find that
the way I had asked Him to make the repair was not how He had done it. This
rankled me and I would become upset, but what's done is done and I had to live
with it. As I became accustomed to the new remodeling, it grew on me and
it seemed, worked out better than I had imagined it in my mind. So it seemed,
the Carpenter knew exactly what He was doing. I began to trust His judgment
over mine, but it did not happen over night.
Sometimes, the jobs took what seemed
forever to complete. This was a real test of patience in me as I had my own
ideas about how long the job should take. I would grow impatient and kept
asking Him when it would be done. Sometimes, even to the point of anger and
frustration I would demand to know why it was taking so long. No matter how
rude I was, He would just continue working on the job, methodically, taking His
time. Again, as I began to understand, He wanted it perfect for me. He was
always faithful to work the job and make the repair in such a way as to make it
exactly what needed to be done, so that it would last.
All during this, I was faithful to keep my
word in that I did set aside time to read His Book. I found it a pleasure and
sometimes even though I didn't know it, He was right there with me. As is His
way, quiet and respectful to keep silent unless asked a question.
Looking back, I cannot understand why I
didn't ask Him to sit down with me. I never did. There were many questions I
had about the story in that Book. Many and I never thought to ask Him during
those years about what some things meant. Yet, I knew, just by reading it, it
read like a journal of sorts and I got the sense that He was the one who had
written it. So, again, looking back it would have been a good choice to ask Him
the questions I had, since it was becoming abundantly clear He had the answers.
But I didn't and it took me a long time to understand the things of which He
wrote. Sometimes, I think He wanted it that way. Actually, I do believe that is
exactly what He wanted.
A growing sense of much guilt began to form
in me, as I saw His work, how good it was and how demanding and unworthy I was
to have this Man in my home doing work for me, when He wasn't really getting
any pay. Just a small room to stay. I hadn't even cleaned out that room
properly. It still had a lot of clutter. Meals still only occasionally offered
at the table so we could chat. Oddly at those times, while we were supping
together, I did most of the talking. He just sat and listened. I will admit it.
I whined and complained a lot, yet through it all, He just sat and listened.
Many more years went by. He stayed and I
read. He repaired and I worked. But I also found, that the time I spent reading
the Book, while He was repairing my house, I became less concerned with the
things of this life that had wearied me and worn me down and made me ill. I
found I didn't want those who had been invited into my home, wrecking it bit by
bit and having no respect for my property. I became less weighed down and more
selective of whom I invited in. As a matter of fact, I found myself so fascinated
by the Book that I would read it over and over again. From the moment I read
the last word, of the last chapter, on the last page, I would open it to the
first word, of the first chapter on the first page.
The work He had done over the years, the
repairs He had made, well the house was taking on a new look. Not complete mind
you, but it was now evident and I felt more motivated to clean out the clutter.
I even began to clean out some of the junk I had left in the room where He
stayed. I invited Him to sup with me more often and I talked with Him and even
though I still whined and complained, it became more dialogue than monologue. I
was getting to know Him and to my amazement, He was growing on me. We were
becoming friends.
As this happened, I understood that those
whom I had called friends, those whom I had invited into my home and had
trusted, these same ones who had no respect for my home and the carelessness
they showed, had never been my friends. As my friendship with the Carpenter
became more, my other "friends" became less. I began to trust Him
with larger projects, the ones that seemed almost impossible to fix. To my
utter amazement He worked wonders. The more He worked with my house, the more
time it seemed I had to read and the more I read, the more intrigued by this
Book I became. So much so, I was hungry to devour the words and I began to ask
Him questions, wanting answers to help me understand how all the things written
in the story told, fit together and He began to answer and He began to show me.
But sometimes, there were parts of the story that just didn't make any sense to
me and when I would ask Him, He would not tell me. I wanted to know the answer,
but He was silent. I began to get impatient and would sometimes demand to know
the answer. Yet, He would not give it. Because we had become friends, I trusted
Him that in time He would share. Perhaps some parts of His story were too
painful for Him to talk about and I had to learn, I had to come to respect
that.
Then, one day He told me that the reading
of His Book was directly connected to the repairs of my house. I scoffed
somewhat, saying to Him "What are you telling me? That this---is Your tool
bag??"" THIS--- is how You have been making the repairs???" He
said "Yes, but it works better when YOU read the instructions. It makes my
job easier when YOU understand HOW things work. The repairing is made easier by
your understanding of the instructions. It is My manual for repairs." How
can that be??" I demanded to know how a story book, could be a
repair manual. But He was silent, except to say that I had to come to this
understanding on my own. He went to His room. The one that still had junk in
it, although not as much as in the beginning, but I certainly had to give Him
His earned space in my home.
So, feeling offended, I was left to think
and to ponder His words. We were friends now, how could He possibly hold this
back from me?? I got angry and frustrated. I thought upon these things for a
very long time. A very long time indeed and while I did, I stood back from my
friend, eying Him with distrust and feeling left out. I was hurt, feeling a
sting I hadn't in a long time. Then one day, even thought the initial offended
feeling had settled down somewhat, I was still thinking on His word to me and
then, a revelation. A revelation came to me and I fell to my knees and began
crying. I had been walking around in my house, asking the question of why He
has held back from me the answers I demanded of Him, seeing all the work He had
done and how nice it was to see the home as it should be. It was coming along
nicely. Still needed a lot of work as the damage and neglect had been much, but
coming along never-the-less. Then, it struck me.
In the beginning, when He first came to my
house, I only gave Him small repairs. These are the ones not seen, you really
cannot appreciate the things repaired behind the walls and under counters and
in corners. As time went by I began to trust Him with the larger repairs. I
recall now, that this was about the same time I began to read His Book. Such a
fascinating story it became to me. The more I read it, the more it seemed like
many different books all rolled into one. How could that be? It read like a novel,
yet like a journal, yet again like a love story. I couldn't get enough once I
really began to read it. I mean really read it. The very first time I read it,
it seemed now, looking back, as if I had only skimmed the surface. So I picked
it up again and as I read, I saw things I apparently had missed the first time
around. I read it many times before I began to ask Him questions, thinking all
that time that I could figure it out by myself. Walking around in my house that
was beginning to take on a new form, it came to me that it was after reading
many times, after I begun to ask Him questions and He would show me what was
meant, this---is when the house began to look like it was being remodeled. It
was beginning to take on a new form. This, is when I fell to my knees
with understanding. My eyes opened to His words, the words I had thought were
spoken to me in harshness, were in fact, words spoken in love. I was convicted
then, feeling so much anguish that my own words of hurt back to Him were
unjustified, mean and cruel. I had hurt the only true friend I had ever had.
Here He was, living in my house, my cluttered, neglected, in need of repair
house, dirty with all kinds of muck. Living in a spare room which I had barely
cleaned a space for Him to reside and in all that time, He never complained.
Not once. Not ever. I felt ashamed and washed with guilt.
I went to Him with tears, with humility,
with crushing guilt, asking His forgiveness for my rash words my selfish
treatment of Him. He said nothing. He stood there and opened up His arms to me
and I fell into His embrace feeling the warmth of Him. He uttered soft words in
my ear, words I will never forget, words that for a long time after, I
struggled to fully accept. "You are forgiven."
Even now, to this day, so many years later,
I am in awe of that moment. From that point on, He did show me things I had
questions about and as He did, I continued to read and as I continued to read,
He continued to repair. What a wonderful Carpenter He is. Taking His time to
make certain it is done right.
As time progressed, I began to share in
cleaning up my house. I prepared a better place for Him to stay and I became
more active in the repairs, showing Him some of the places where I knew there
was damage and then asking Him to show me the places that I had not seen. The
things under the foundation where there was rot from of old.
From that point on, we worked together and
as we worked, I continued to take time to read and it became a wonder to me
that Book. As it shifted in clarity right before my eyes, it became a living
breathing thing, a fruit much desired to eat of. At the same time He made more
repairs, bigger things that had needed much work, again, things that were in
danger of total destruction that would have rendered my home condemned had He
not come to repair it for me. Back then, I was in no state to make the repairs
that were so badly needed. And I see now, looking back that He somehow had kept
my house from falling apart while He was with me in that spare room. That spare
room. I wasn't even willing back then, to make it clean for Him. I only gave a
little of myself to barely make any room for Him there. Not a room worthy of a
great Carpenter and certainly not a room worthy of a Friend as He has become my
closest and dearest and most trusted friend
He has been with me many years now and our
friendship grows. I have not only come to trust Him, but I have fallen deeply
in love with Him. I worked up the courage to ask Him to stay always with me. Do
you know what His words to me were? "I have been waiting a long time for
you to ask Me that."
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