We walk nearly every day. I enjoy walking through neighborhoods, photographing beautiful landscapes and flowers. I like to pretend I live in a certain house and imagine what it would be like. I have imaginary families living in them. As we walk, we notice changes. New paint color. New landscaping. Something beautiful is nearly always blooming.
Sometimes there are beautiful clouds above.
One house we walked by looked like it had been built in the seventies. A ranch style house, situated on busy Evergreen Highway, tucked far back on the lot so traffic noise didn’t invade their dwelling. There were lots of big trees in front and we could only glance at the home through the long driveway. I imagined a young couple, buying the view lot, getting a loan and excitedly viewing the building plans, choosing carpeting, cupboards, accessories. I imagined their plans to raise their family there—and have the grandchildren come visit too, tucked away, on their little island, the sparkling Columbia River right in their own backyard. I saw wreaths on the front door change with the season. In winter, an evergreen, in spring, bright yellow forsythia, in the summer, pink dogwood.cA few weeks ago, one cheerful sunny morning, we walked along the road and heard the rumble and grind of large equipment. We walked by that brown ranch style home and to my dismay, there was a large excavator grinding away at the garage. “Look what they’re doing!” I exclaimed to Jim. Huge chunks of the roofline over the garage was being destroyed.
Strangely, the pink dogwood wreath was still on the front door. We kept on walking and we talked and wondered why the house was being destroyed. We think because the land was more valuable with the view than the building itself. Most likely, a new, larger and more ostentatious house will be built.
About an hour later, I drove by and was shocked to see the house gone. Completely gone! I parked the car nearby, and walked closer to take a photo of it. Did the owners of the brown ranch see their home being destroyed? The play structure is still standing, but I imagine it will soon be gone, too.
Seeing the rapid demolition reminds me of the fragility of life and all we know that is familiar and how quickly it can disappear. I get scared sometimes, but I’m reminded of what Jesus said:
Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my words shall not pass away.
Matthew 24:35
I’m so glad my hope is not in buildings that can be destroyed, but in what Jesus said 2,000 years ago, my words shall not pass away.
It’s scary in life sometimes. We see things happening in our country that are not what we want to see. We hear of disasters, bombings, terrorist strikes all over the world—24/7. There’s pain and sickness everywhere. Where do we turn? I remember what Jesus said, my words shall not pass away…..
What an incredible lady.