The Front Porch

A famous person once said, "In my father's house there are many rooms." He was not talking about square footage. The actual word he used for "rooms" is better translated, "dwelling places."

A dwelling place is of course a place where you would enjoy "dwelling." For me that was my grandmother's front porch. On that porch filled with two rows of rocking chairs you could find everybody rocking back and forth, from the town drunk to the governor of the state. Everyone was welcome.

There was always a pot of coffee brewing to satisfy the thirst. That thirst could be for the bitter taste of the dark brew or it just might be for the deep need of the soul. Remember this was a dwelling place. It was no ordinary front porch. What made it special was not its location next to a busy highway. What made it a dwelling place was my grandmother who welcomed anyone who wanted to sit a while and talk. Somehow she left judging people behind in her own journey. Somewhere she decided that everyone deserved a cup of coffee, a rocking chair, and a listening ear.

Word got out that everybody was welcomed at "Hattie's house." The Mississippi delta heat was persistent and the old brown Sears's oscillating fan could only do so much to cool off the tired, weary pilgrims who rocked and drank hot coffee on that front porch. So why would they end up there?

I think it was the reality that everybody's story was valuable on that front porch. Status and even the penalties of the past seemed to be left at the gate that you opened when you walked up the sidewalk to the discover the ever present smell of coffee.

"Come sit a while and tell me your story." That is what people knew they would hear from Hattie. That...and a cup of coffee was all most anybody ever really needs.

Hattie is gone now. She told me when she was 93 that she was worn out and "needed to go home." I squeezed her hand and said, "I know grandma but I hate to lose you." She responded with another tighter squeeze and said, "Boy, I don't want to out-live myself."

When I conduct funerals I most always use those words, "in my father's house are many dwelling places." I use them because they are given to be used, but I mostly use them because of that front porch. I am confident that the dwelling place that I offer to those who sit before me who are grieving surely has a front porch. There are rocking chairs and I bet there's some coffee. There you can find Jesus and grandma rocking back and forth...and well...You can also fiind the types of people telling their stories who will probably surprise most of us since we have a bad habit of not leaving the judgement stuff at the front gate.

Bless you
jody jseymour@davidsonumc.org