For Wilshire Baptist Church
I turned left off Garland Road onto Tranquilla and almost hit the curb when I saw what was in front of me at the corner of Galway. I made the detour while running errands after a storm to check on the old pecan trees that framed the house I lived in for 18 years. The trees looked healthy and strong as expected, but the house? That was the big surprise, because growing out of the roof of the one-story ranch-style structure was a new second story.
My initial reaction was something along the lines of “Why?” and “How could they?” but that was silly and selfish because I willingly sold the house six years ago in preparation for a new life in a new home. The house sits on a corner, and when I got over the initial shock I drove around to the side to view it from another angle and that’s when I had my “wait a minute” moment, as in, “Wait a minute, this is great.”
You see, the house was built in 1949 as the builder’s model for a new neighborhood, and by the time I got there 44 years later little had changed about the house or the neighborhood except the pecan trees had grown larger and lovelier. And that’s mostly because while teardown fever has decimated so many old streets in Dallas, this neighborhood has respected the past by adding on to homes in ways that preserve the original architecture. During my time there I doubled the size of the den by enclosing the back porch. And now the family I sold the house to is growing new rooms organically out of the roof in a way that doesn’t overwhelm the existing structure and with materials that complement the original Austin stone and siding.
Moving forward while respecting the past has been one of the themes of home fellowship meetings that our Wilshire Baptist Church has been having in recent days. The church is in its 66th year, and while there have been great moments along the way there have been trials and struggles too as we’ve tried to discern our place and role in an ever complex world. At different times some dear friends have left us, and that has led to seasons of prayer and serious conversation about who and what we should be going forward.
The home meetings have marked one of these seasons, and I’ve learned that, like my old neighborhood, we’re not a “teardown and start over” kind of church. The building has “great bones” as is often said; and the community inside is committed to a vision of worshiping, learning, giving and serving that has grown organically, prayerfully and faithfully through the years.
Like the old pecan trees in front of my old house, we’re still standing strong and still bearing fruit.