I miss my mansion. No, I wasn’t once rich and lost it all, and when I say “my” mansion, I didn’t actually own it. When I was fresh out of college I got a job at the University of Alabama in Huntsville as the “Facilities Manager” and one of the amazing perks of that job was I got to live in a big, 2 story house on 13 acres of land in the middle of Huntsville! With the exception of a rare party or event at the house, or that one time I had to interrupt a prostitute and her john in the driveway (who probably thought the house was empty) – the house was all mine.
I technically lived in one quadrant of the house, that was made up like an apartment, but I liked to spread out into the entire house as often as I could. I miss the seasons in that big house… looking out at the Fall colors in the middle of a busy city and only seeing the Fall colors… 13 acres can cover over a lot of surrounding city.
Ultimately I left the job and ironically I picked an exit time right before the ceiling of my apartment had a major leak, so according to that timing it was the right decision, but I still miss that feeling of space and seclusion. The house sat up on a hill and had a long winding driveway leading to it, so when I looked out from the top floor it felt like I was powerful. It felt like I was somebody. Don’t get me wrong, though. I love my current home as well, but it doesn’t have the size or space or prestige. I guess as a Christian I’m not really supposed to want a mansion. I should just be focused on being Christ-like, but it certainly was a lot of fun living in a big house. Maybe I’ll get a mansion in Heaven one day. You know, one without prostitutes…
Thanks for reading my 118th blog.