a new coat of paint will not do

In the yard sits a little pink playhouse. My father, wife, and I built it many years ago. My daughters spent much of their childhood filling it with their imagination and play. From the front porch carpeted with blue turf, to the eraser board walls, and the light blue trim against the pink exterior featuring painted flowers along the bottom, the playhouse of their early years was given much thought, work, and care. Great attention was given to the many details that made the playhouse so uniquely theirs.

As time has passed and the children have grown, the playhouse is showing its age and disrepair. Some of the shingles on the roof have gone missing in the many windstorms of the years. The bright pink paint has faded and light blue trim pieces have been knocked off by close calls with mowers. Rot has infested the porch and destroyed the floor that once held small chairs of restful breaks from play. Childhood is so soon forgotten for other less innocent play things.

Now the noise of the Wii, the distraction of gameboys, solitude of iPods, and companionship of cell phones, laptops, or kindles garner the time and attention of young minds limited to what an electronic device allows them to perceive. The excitement of simple play replaced by the boredom of nothing better to do than complain about nothing to do. The only interruption to be the clash of strong personalities which once together created whole worlds of imagination now no longer content to agree in reality. 

I have often thought to refurbish the playhouse and restore it too its old condition, to never start due to a pain inside. On many occasions, I have briefly considered selling or giving away the playhouse and even the playset that sits just as idle nearby. Even at the thought I stop, not ready to acknowledge the reality I now see and know each time I look at the playhouse. There is no repair to be made to what has really happened in my life, there is no way to restore the childhood of my sweet daughters. It's time is too soon to pass. A new coat of paint will not do. 


[I wrote this in July 2010, the day after I wrote this we had some work done on the roof of our house.  Unprompted, the roofers used some extra shingles left from the house to reroof the little pink playhouse.  I call these 'God saying Hi' moments.  Clearly He enjoyed the moment, I know I did.]



[UPDATE April 2012: With an impending move, the little pink playhouse is up for grabs... my daughters progress with startling speed toward womanhood, which holds its own new challenges deep with love and hope for God's peace & Glory to be lived out in their lives.]