My Parent’s House

Living from Legacy

I step across the threshold of the home that I grew up in. It’s no longer my place of residence. I’m living a sort of nomadic existence between California and the UK. In this place, the sense of peace and belonging here is as wide as it is deep. I’m known, understood, I’m heard and part of the family. As I kick off my shoes and place them onto the white hand made shoe rack, I’m taken by the fact this room has seen so many different eras. Once an office as I played whilst my father worked, or a laundry space while I was sitting my SAT exams, this room has been shaped and fought for to create the beautiful hand crafted entrance way that now stands as the first port of call on any trip home.

But this is just the beginning of the home my parents have fought for. The walls are hand painted over and over again, photographs of family holidays hang from the walls, my childhood in a frame. The scent of the fresh coffee I brought home fills the kitchen. The kitchen my brother designed. The carpets have been relayed and relayed, the bedrooms restyled over and over. This house has been hand-shaped and sanded into the authentic home that now proudly stands in the tiny village that I spent my early years playing around.

I love visiting here. This house is the accumulation of over 25 years of building family and strengthening a marriage. There’s a sense of honour that hangs in the air for what’s been accomplished. Businesses were built here, school reports & homework written, we’ve cried, we’ve laughed, we’ve grieved here, we’ve seen dreams come to life, we’ve written books, we’ve launched courses and practiced preaches. This house is built of creativity, excellence and authentic living, because that’s who my parents are.

I’m currently sat in the legacy that my parents have built for me. I’m constantly finding things in my life that I love because my parents love them. I love living in legacy. Theres a strength, comfort and empowerment that comes from not having to start from scratch. You’re always building on something or someone.

The highest form of legacy that we walk in is the legacy that Jesus is always creating for us.

Pslam 119:111: Thy testimonies have I taken as an heritage for ever: for they are the rejoicing of my heart.

The testimonies of the Lord are your legacy, your heritage, your starting point. He’s fought for home for an eternity, constantly building one just for you. The only way my parents build home in such a beauty-filled way, is an understanding that their legacy is found in Jesus as well.

When I’ve built it, my home will have had it’s own journey. It’s own pictures on the wall, it’s own entry way, it’s own hand crafted pieces. Despite the differences, you can be sure that somewhere, with a place of honour and dignity, you’ll find pieces of my parents house. The first place I ever called home.

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