When Legacy Meets the Future

The First Week of Demo

Eight men showed up that first week.

No hesitation. No easing into it. They walked in, assessed the space, and immediately got to work. Flooring came up. Walls came down. Appliances were hauled out. Insulation was stripped away. It was loud, dusty, chaotic — and astonishing how fast it all happened.

In what felt like a moment, everything looked different.

It was exciting. Energizing. A visible shift from vision to reality.

And still… there were a few unexpected tears.

Not because I doubted the calling. Not because I wasn’t fully committed to what My Father’s House is becoming. But because demolition has a way of stirring memory. As familiar rooms disappeared, I felt the ache of missing my mom and dad — both now in heaven.

My mom drew the original plans for our home. She chose the details, the finishes, the things that made it hers. Since her passing ten years ago, my dad’s handprint had slowly emerged — though his love was always most visible outdoors, in the land, the care of the property, the steady tending of what surrounded the house.

That first week of demo made something clear to me: this wasn’t just renovation.It was a passing from one generation to the next.

In the middle of the noise and dust — on that very first day — a package arrived.

It was from my eldest daughter, Hannah.

Inside was a beautiful stained-glass piece meant to hang in a window. Across the top, it read “Mimi’s Garden.” Each flower had a stem, and on every stem was the name of one of my six grandchildren.

I stood there holding it, surrounded by torn-up floors and exposed walls, and the tears came freely.

Because in that moment, God gently shifted my perspective.

Yes, I was honoring what my parents had built. Yes, I was stewarding their legacy with care.

But I was also being invited — called — to build something that would one day belong to my children… and to their children after them.

What began as my parents’ home had now become a place I was intentionally shaping as an inheritance — not just of walls and land, but of faith, hospitality, obedience, and blessing.

Scripture says:

“A good person leaves an inheritance for their children’s children.”  Proverbs 13:22

Inheritance is not only what we leave behind — it’s what we prepare ahead of time. It’s choosing to build with eternity in mind. It’s asking not only, What will this be now? But who will this bless long after I’m gone?

Holding that stained glass, I realized something sacred: Legacy doesn’t stop with preservation — it continues through intentional offering and sacrifice.

I want my children to build upon what I am building. I want my grandchildren to know they are rooted in something meaningful. And I want this house — this land — to become a blessing that extends beyond our family and into the community God has entrusted to us

“One generation shall commend your works to another, and shall declare your mighty acts.”  Psalm 145:4

Honoring my mother and father means carrying their heart forward — not freezing it in time. It means allowing God to build upon what they began, just as I hope my children will one day build upon what I am offering now.

“Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be long in the land the Lord your God is giving you.”  Exodus 20:12

That first week of demo wasn’t just loud or messy or fast.

It was holy.

It was God clearing space — not only in the house, but in my understanding — for what legacy truly looks like when it’s surrendered, stewarded, and passed forward with open hands.

Welcome to this unfolding journey...