It must be in the water
What is it about a home?
(I mentioned earlier that we are casually house-shopping).
Stepping inside the walls of a stranger, each time I am struck by a sense;
not from the decorating, or number of bathrooms, or view . . .
The house speaks . . .
The air feels weary in one.
One seems silent, and alone.
Another still echos with shouts; the walls feel sharp and something cold hangs over us. I am eager to leave.
What is it, then, about the one that draws me back . . . the one too old, needing too much work, the one we can't afford . . . but with walls that laugh? Something is peaceful inside, and clean. Cleaner than just the house, though it sparkles. The air feels clean too. We leave and each say to the other how clean is the spirit of the house and . . . why?
A second showing and I notice a verse written, propped over the sink,
"Create in me a clean heart o God, and renew a right spirit within me . . . "
This weekend we listened to Rob Bell (Everything I have said to You), and the power of words, the power of our thoughts, that it all matters, so incredibly, it all affects me and you; everything affects everything . . . Rob Bell talked about Dr. Masaru Emoto, who discovered that there is a significant effect of words on water crystals . . . it sounds too powerful, too wonderful to be true but it is . . . words written and taped to a glass; spoken or shouted; words prayed . . . the water changes it's expression.
That sense that we have, the sense when something's not right or somebody's angry or whatever it is that understands love . . . (our bodies are three-quarters water after all!) Words affect us, they change us, even our environments.
I find this fascinating, and profoundly Biblical.
God spoke, and it was . . . our words create worlds, too.
What is it about that house that so attracts me? It must be the world created by the words that were spoken and prayed and lived there, years and years of speaking and reading and living out pure words, God's Word.
I don't know if we will buy that particular house, or any house . . . but I am more aware of the kind of world I am creating in my home each day. What kind of world lives in my house? What does the Spirit of my home say? Am I speaking life-giving words? Are my words true? Is God's Word spoken, and prayed, and lived in my home? What about the effect of my thoughts on my body?
They seem so little, so inconsequential.
Words as tiny as water crystals; as big as a house.