Baby Room

We have one spare bedroom in our modest 1,050 square foot home. It used to be yellow from top to bottom with a simple bed-frame that has been passed down in Kara's family for at least three or four generations. Kara's great grandfather died in this bed. Guests love to know this just as they are preparing to snuggle in for a good night's sleep at the Graves house.

The spare bedroom has experienced a transformation of sorts. The ceiling is white. The walls are a cool shade of green. The furniture has been replaced. A baby crib now sits where the bed used to. A miniature soccer ball, football, and basketball rest on top of a shelf. Who knows, Baby Graves (name still TBD) might be an artist or musician or writer or photographer . . . he might not even be interested in his dad's sports (basketball and baseball). That's fine with me.

This room used to be my least favorite in the entire house. The living room is for sports and good movies (and Gilmore Girls). The kitchen is for laughing, preparing, and joking. The dining room is for the occasional special meal. The den is for reading by the fireplace. The nook off the den is for writing blogs like this and papers for grad school. Our bedroom is for sleeping, one of God's magical gifts I'm convinced.

I never knew what to do with the yellow spare-bedroom. It just kind of sat in our house, with little attention. Occasionally I'd sleep in there if Kara was sick or just sick of me (yes preachers can be difficult to live with). Or, I'd hang my clothes for the next work day in there.

Things are different. The former room known as the yellow room is now my favorite room of all. It's become a sanctuary of sorts. Partly because of the work Kara's put into it. Mostly because it is a symbol of new life and new possibilities. The little life that will spend so much time in this room is proof that God works in the subtle, the whisper, the ordinary seasons of our lives.

I think I'll go to the sanctuary now. The yellow room. And pray for all of God's children.