The Front Porch

If you have ever read a classic novel (or took Mrs. Harris' ninth grade English class) then you understand metaphors and foreshadowing.   In my favorite book, "A Tale of Two Cities", the wine spilling into the streets foreshadowed the blood that would be shed during the revolution.   Recognizing the configuration of events requires attention to detail and the ability to tie together pieces of the story, which brings me to my porch.

My mother and I wanted a gorgeous, banister style porch along the front length of the house.  For my mom, it was her dream from the time I was born and she and my father took over the house from Gigi.  Mom wanted  a place where we would be able to sit, be cool, and enjoy coffee with the family.  My dad never got around to building the porch so, when my ex-husband wanted to build it, my mom and I were ecstatic.  A dream come true.  After $2,000 and one weekend of hard-work, the porch was up.  Crisp, clean, bright white, and shady with high back rocking chairs and glasses of iced tea. It was beautiful.

Well, it looked beautiful.  Less than ten years later it's falling apart.   The porch is structurally inept, made with all the wrong parts, and costing double to repair.  As I stood there today and listened to the roofing contractor lay out the cost and workload, I was flooded with emotion.   I choked on the words to approve the work.  This porch was a metaphor for my marriage and it's demise was foreshadowed in the very construction of each railing.  My marriage seemed appealing to the eye but, in eight short years, it was structurally inept, built on a shaky foundation, and cost double from which to recover.  I remember listing my debts in the divorce hearing and, knowing his half would never be paid, was forced to take on the additional portion to keep myself out of legal trouble and financial ruin.  Knowing I'm already paying double my share makes the cost to repair the porch a little harder pill to swallow.  But, it's not about money.

Many people were surprised when they heard I was getting divorced.  More than once I was told by shocked friends "but you all looked so happy" and "he's so fun".    As to why, some people know the general reasons, my closest friends know the majority of the truth, and I keep a few secrets to myself.  The ability to make everything look good from the outside is an art that I mastered long ago.  Appearances are everything, just like curb appeal of the porch.  It looks great but it's hard to believe it stood as long as it did.

I wasn't paying attention to the details.  I saw each indicator individually however, I wanted to believe things would improve and that my gut feelings had to be wrong.  They weren't.  In fact, in the end, it was worse than my suspicious mind could even conjure. I ignored the warnings and persevered while smiling and putting out fires.   Standing under the porch today and surveying the truth, the moments of foreshadowing became clear.   It was too heavy a weight to bear so I gave it to the Lord.

Like the porch I will stand, even though repairs are needed.  I come before God each morning and thank Him for allowing me another day.  No matter the cost, I will continue to nurture the ground upon which I'm planted.  I'm grateful for each lesson.