Opening Our Doors
Over the years our family has opened its doors to those who needed a home. This has been a part of our family conscience since the beginning, and our children enjoy this tradition; though it has “ups” as well as “downs.”
Cheryl and I began this long before we had children, beginning with a crazy kid named (well…let’s protect the innocent and call him Earl shall we). Earl was an idiot!
He was the only person I ever saw who would come into a restaurant with a broken leg, sporting a knee- high cast, and apply for a position as a waiter! Well, he got the job, and I offered to let him live with us for a short time. This seemed to be a good fit for us, except I forgot to ask him one small important question…”Say Earl, you don’t play the drums do ya?”
Yes, Earl was a drummer, and not a jazz or swing drummer, no Earl played Heavy Metal Drummer stuff! When he moved in he brought his huge drum kit with him.
He was to live upstairs in the attic, and that big open space with all the old wood (we lived in the old red Victorian house next door to Petes BP) became a sort of amplifier for that drum set. I swear you could hear him playing in Hillsboro at times. I still can’t believe I never got arrested over that.
Next it was a newly married couple; they lasted a few weeks with us. Then my parents, after they sold their house in Louisiana. They stayed in the attic for about six months until they bought their new house over on Spring Street. That actually went pretty well, and they returned the favor years later as Cheryl and I were between houses, waiting to close on our house on Magnolia.
There were always students in our ministry who needed an overnight now and then; and some who needed a home. Well, we gave them one as often as we could. Out of these teenagers came a few who Cheryl and I regard as family; and who the children consider to be brothers and/ or sisters. There was Jerimiah, Katie, Mindy, Kayla, Krista, Paul; and now…there is Michael.
We met Mike a few months back, by way of the thrift store. He wanted to volunteer; and we needed the help, so the situation was good for both of us.
After a while, we learned that he needed a place to stay, so Cheryl and I prayed about it; and then we talked to the children. Everyone was in agreement, and so we invited him to move into the house.
I am pretty big on guidelines and rules; and believe me, when someone is moving into our house…there is a line to tow! The main thing is to respect Cheryl, the house, and to handle the bustle of our lifestyle; and to be gracious with the children. After all, if you let them, they can and will drive you nuts!
All has been going well so far, and I feel really good with the way Mike has handled the children; and with the way the children have handled Mike. That is, until the other day. It seems we have a pattern of practical jokes brewing; and poor Mike is the target.
Don’t get me wrong, the children have always been a little bit of a menace. They pick on each other constantly, and they love to find new ways to embarrass me in public. But with Mike, it’s different. Like the other day, when Mike went missing for about an hour. Nobody knew where he was, and Cheryl and I were looking for him. Come to find out…Mike was locked in the bathroom!
Yes, Julieann and Lindsey figured it would be awesome to padlock Michael into the bathroom; and then act like they had no idea where he could possibly be.
Needless to say, when he was finally freed, he was a little fired up! When he came to me for some parental support, I responded the way any loving responsible father would. I said…”Mike, they’re children, get over it!” I thought the joke was funny!
Jason, father of six