Standing on Kitchen Counters

I mentioned in the last post that I was having a little celebration dessert for those who worked to build the parsonage we are living in.

They just built the house...it is still not quite finished, but it is dwell-able.  So it was time to celebrate.  I worked late into the night trying to get the house presentable.  I asked someone from the church to help me organize the school room.  Brian drilled holes into the walls at 11:00 p.m. and we hung pictures.

For some reason, I had a block when it came to hanging pictures.  It was as if by hanging them, I would be stating this really was my home.  And I wasn't sure I wanted to make that kind of a statement.  The funny thing was, even though most of the pictures are on the walls now, it hasn't made it feel like home.  It just looks like I put my pictures on the wall in this house.  Strange.

As the dear people poured in last Friday evening, twenty or so gathered in the common living/kitchen area, Brian declared dessert was up for grabs.  Raleigh and Timmy had made Chocolate Hazelnut cake. Dawson made Ranger cookies.  Noelle made Lemon Icebox Pie.  I filled in the spread with fruit, nuts, and Peach Danish pastries.  Tea, coffee, and water framed the island desserts.

The conversations started and everything was underway when the smoke detector right there started chirping.  Loudly.

Of course the ceilings are a bit vaulted and it was on the highest part.  My friend's helpful fifteen year-old son jumped onto the banister to reach it.  The new ones are connected by electricity, battery, gas, I don't know, every possible means.  After disconnecting it, he called some guys working at the church and they showed up with 9 volt batteries.

They set the alarm on the kitchen counter near the tea and talking resumed.  Until chirping sounded again, this time in the kitchen.  Unfortunately, we couldn't see a fire alarm on the kitchen ceiling.  The helpful teen jumped onto the kitchen counters amidst the drinks and dessert, looking, searching.

Women standing there looked at him and remembered being on the counters themselves, painting and cleaning.

It turned out that even without a battery and connection, the alarm on the counter still chirped.  Are they powered by oxygen as well??

More fiddling and the detector was finally quiet.

I keep picturing Ian standing on the counter and laugh.  I realize that alarm was God's gift to me. It took away my insecurities about how the people would think I decorated or kept house and put my focus on a comical, out-of-my-control situation.

I felt, for a moment, like I was home.  Teens standing on counters have a way of making me feel like it's a comfortable place to be.  Even more than pictures hanging on walls.

The pastor's wife back home moved after living in a home for twenty years or more.  She said that her new home would only feel like home as memories were made there.

I understand.  Fire alarms during parties do more to make a home than pictures and cleaning.