The only thing “fresh” about the limestone house with its gambrel roof were the blue hydrangea bouquets that graced the pockmarked breakfast table. That table, like the rest of the furnishings in the lakefront bed and breakfast, was too new to qualify as antique but worn enough to qualify for replacement.
Marilyn and I along with six dear friends learned that “clean and freshly remodeled” is to B & B’s what “a wonderful personality” is to a blind date. One of our friends had stayed there in the past and enjoyed their experience, so everyone signed on for several days of R & R along the breezy shores of Lake Erie. Spurred on by our friend’s recommendation and braced by the steep rental fee, we anticipated four wonderful days at a “New England” style cottage.
Don’t get me wrong, we had a wonderful weekend together. However, the B & B had seen better days. The main house was beautifully rustic, built in 1912 and set against the weather-beaten shores of Catawba Island along Lake Erie. Sometime in the 1970’s, several nondescript, tiny frame houses—euphemistically called “cabins”—were added to the low-lying property out back, well beyond the view of the lake. At one time the cabins may have felt homey and comfortable, but now they were just tired and under-maintained. While the exteriors were crying for paint, the interiors were… well… I’m not sure what the decorator was thinking. The walls in our cabin were lavender with rickety, white wicker furniture, like you’d expect to see on the porch of a colonial mansion (and in fact, these pieces may have predated the Civil War).
Our hostess threw her shoulder into the sticky door and explained, “We don’t turn on the air conditioners, before you arrive—that way you can set the temperature to your liking.” The one hundred degree heat of the afternoon felt balmy compared to the interior of our cabin. Fighting for my breath, I climbed upon the wicker sofa, stretching to reach the A/C unit that was mounted beyond the reach of an NBA player. That’s when I discovered there were no knobs on the controls. Turning to inquire of our hostess, I saw Marilyn standing alone on the splintering porch, perspiration forming above her quivering lip. Regrouping, we developed a knob-share program with our friends and eventually convinced the undersized A/C units to blow cold air then left for a three-hour tour of the island.
At breakfast the next morning, I noticed several charming, albeit dusty, accessories which indicated the inn was once fresh and alive. It was obvious the owners, now fifteen years into the dream of owning a lake-front bed and breakfast, had grown tired and lost the energy of their first love. I believe they didn’t realize how stale the place had become. Time can do to that to us all—cause us to see what once was instead of what actually is.
“God, make a fresh start in me, shape a Genesis week from the chaos of my life.” Psalm 51:10 The Message
I’ve experienced that in my relationship with the Lord. I assume on His presence, grow too comfortable and forget to spend time maintaining my fellowship with Him. The door to my heart gets sticky, and the room I provide for Him becomes stale and unattractive.
Lord Jesus, I’m sorry I allow my heart to become stale and unattractive. Today, please help me to renew and refresh my relationship with you. Amen.
“You’re my place of quiet retreat; I wait for your Word to renew me.” Psalm 119:114 NIrV