The House Had a Name

Beautiful, very square, very "Roman", color-coordinated with the Wedgwood china collection that filled shelves around most of the interior walls.  Pale blue carpet, just the right tone.  The house setting was the top of a small hill, middle of a full city block.  Landscaping was evergreen, tastefully framing the house, always manicured.

Immaculate house, and inside, an older woman with hair NEVER out of place, every detail in her life just where it belonged (she made sure).  Beautiful house with Texas oil money to support it.

But, an increasingly lonely place.  There were always friends, the kind that show up when you have deep pockets.  The other, better kind, not so much.  The beautiful house was rarely, if ever, full of the noisy disorder of a family reunion.  The exterior, almost perfect, never changed.

I'm sure she never knew it, but the house had a name among the children:  The Mausoleum.


mausoleum  noun:  1)  an external free-standing building constructed as a monument enclosing the interment space or burial chamber of a deceased person or persons. ...

I was surprised that neighboring children knew that word, but they did.

I used to be often surprised at what "the children" know (always more than their parents think).  Now, I take it for granted that the God-given perception that sees other people and relationships starts working early in life.  Oh, we do learn to keep our insights to ourselves (the children never said "mausoleum" in more than a whisper), and sometimes we suppress our insights altogether.

But, inside, there are the little triggers that God built into us.  We can ignore the warnings, for good or bad; or we can listen closely, which is sometimes hard to do.  But, when we listen, and receive those insights into a loving heart that cares about other people, the moments of insight are a gift from God.

They become the red flag that goes up to warn us of danger and deception, or the multicolored flags that go up like semaphores in our minds to help us see where we're needed.

When the flags fly in your mind, thank God, and be grateful for the ability to respond.