The Heritage You Don’t Know You’re Building

In 1972, a 47 year old small town contractor put hammer to nail and built a duplex on a quiet corner lot. For years the builder framed houses by day while his wife worked the night shift as a nurse. Together they kept their 6 kids fed and cared for.

Fast forward almost 30 years and Ross and I were engaged to be married, just beginning to think of where we might live. We overheard someone casually talk about buying a duplex – about living on one side and letting the renter on the other side help pay the mortgage. I didn’t even know what a duplex was before that day, but we were captivated. A few days later we found a duplex for sale in the newspaper and decided to take a look. 

The Beginning

At 21 and 22 years old, both babies of the family, we were still kids. But we had decent jobs and just enough money saved up to make this little idea possible. The sellers were retirees looking to spend their waning years outside the city limits. They were proud of their little duplex, had cared for it well, and lived that “let the renter help pay the mortgage” plan for years.

Ross and I talked and thought, calculated numbers and prayed. We took our parents by the duplex and told them what we had in mind. My mom recognized it right away. “I’m pretty sure my dad built this”.

Turns out, she was right. My grandfather was that 47 year old builder. I had no idea.

That was 18 years ago now. Though our family has grown and moved, we still hold the deed to that little duplex my grandpa built and these past few weeks have been spent updating it a bit. We tore out old carpet and hauled in gallons of fresh paint. And as we worked I was flooded by memories.

As a new bride I planted my very first tulip bulbs in the front flower bed and I once served undercooked pancakes on wedding gifted dishes to my husband’s boss in that kitchen. I parked my two-door car in the little garage and Ross and I watched movies on a box of a television that sat near that wall. 

Now the place is filled with my offspring – little people commandeering paint rollers and a Shop Vac, helping us spruce up the place. How did this happen?

 

The History

When we peeled back the carpet and exposed the original subfloor my thoughts spun back further. There was my grandpa’s handwriting, measurements scratched out in pencil, calculations preserved for almost 50 years now. 

I imagined him kneeling there on fresh lumber, reaching for a stubby pencil from behind his ear, scratching out measurements and notes. Was he worn and tired from a long, hot day? Was he under pressure to get the job done, bills paid, mouths fed? So many things I try to imagine about that middle-age builder, my someday grandfather.

But I also think about what he didn’t know. He didn’t know, couldn’t have known, he was building a one day home for his granddaughter. He had no idea his great-grandsons would be rolling a new coat of paint onto the walls that he was sweating over. My grandpa didn’t know, generations later his family would be staring at the nails he pounded and the calculations he scratched into the floor.

The Heritage

My grandpa died 7 years ago. It was a gift that he got to see the duplex Ross and I purchased – the one he unknowingly built for us.

While we now sweat and feel a bit of the pressure to get this placed fixed up and rented out again, I’m borrowing a bit of the past to try and gain a bigger vision for the future.

This has everything and yet, maybe, nothing to do with a duplex. 

This is about a heritage – God using our average efforts, the work in front of us, for generations to come. Is that possible?

In Psalm 61:5 David praises God for giving Him a heritage of those who fear His name. The Hebrew word for heritage here is yĕrushah – meaning possession, to occupy. It’s an inheritance that is tangible, a place. David is ascribing glory to God – You have given me the place, allowed me to occupy the spot, of those who Fear your name.

I can’t stand in the duplex and not yearn for this. He knows and He sees and He cares just that much.

I peek into the past, see His provision long before I was even born, and know how this is true. This is evidence of the God who goes before. (Deut 31:8), who hems us in from every side. (Ps. 139:5). It’s an extraordinary God meeting our ordinary days. This is who He is, how He works, friend.

And I wonder – how is He is doing this again, still, now?

How might He be using our ordinary work on ordinary days to bless future generations? What little and small and normal might He be calling us to work out faithfully only to blow us over with His faithfulness in the future.

I don’t even know, friend, but I’m here for it. I have no clue how God may use small stories and small words, how he might use small hospitality, faithful discipleship, our odd or barely unique or seemingly awkward gifts. But I know He does. I know this more than we could ask or imagine God writes beautiful stories and is so generous to let us experience them with Him.

Let’s be brave enough to step into them. Let’s be all in for faithfulness. Knee-deep in the ordinary and average, let’s not be near-sighted. The scripture is overflowing with stories of average people trusting an incredible God in their here and now. With our words and our actions, let’s choose to be counted among them.