by Martha June

“Light is sown for the righteous, and joy for the upright in heart.”

Psalm 97:11 (ESV)

I grew up in the cutest little two-bedroom brick bungalow. It was over 100 years old, full of creaking floorboards, loads of character, flanked by two striking sweetgum trees. We had a charming screened-in back porch, a postage stamp of a backyard, and our house backed up to a cemetery. All of our neighbors were retired, and I remember the place always being full of light. The six of us who lived there loved that house. One bathroom and all.

I have gone back to those memories many times, back to that old house, my old backyard, the old porch swing, and my old attic bedroom. I have repeatedly returned to my childhood, trying to remember every detail of The Yellow Door Days, as my mom called those years. I don’t want to forget the decade I spent living there; it holds some of my sweetest memories.

The year I turned 10 was the year we moved. It was a bitter-sweet goodbye; we were “too big” for the house that felt like home.

For years we have visited the house. We’ve watched the door change color and the leaves turn in the fall, all while getting older and further removed from those memories.

In September, a realtor friend told us that the house was on the market. We lunged at the chance to tour it if we could! And walk the home we did.

Years of my life melted away upon opening the door, and I was instantly transported back. It felt strange to hear those same creaks, see the same doorknobs, and open the little window in my room.

Pieces of that old life still remained in the cement we poured and still appeared in the timeless fixtures my parents picked out years ago. My younger siblings didn’t hold the sentiment we did for the tour. But they finally got to see what we had talked about for so long. It was sweet to include them in the part of our life they missed out on.

The Bungalow sold shortly after we toured it, but we were grateful that God gifted us the opportunity to visit it, likely for the last time.

Walking through the house and soaking up the differences felt like a full-circle moment for me, and it was a sweet gift for us all.

I will always love that little Bungalow.

As much as I love those memories and the storybook quality, they hold for me. I want to remember the importance of looking at The Pink Door Days (my current life) and remember God’s continued faithfulness in the day-to-day. Today, my life is fuller and more complete than it was all those years ago.

I am learning that life with Jesus can be better than an old house on an old street. The best is yet to come in Christ.

Thanks for walking down memory lane with me.

Sincerely,

A sentimentalist.