The Foyer Wall

We moved into our first house when we were married about ten months.
It was close to where my husband would be working and it was in a neighborhood.
That was important to us since we hoped to have children.
There was even a park at the end of the street.

It was a little colonial house with a spacious yard.
It had a bit of a steep driveway, which was interesting to shovel in the winter.
We were so proud to be homeowners.
It was much more work than living in our apartment but it was worth the effort.

The downstairs floor plan was such that you walked right into the living room.
I had a little rug by the door, but I dreamed of a foyer; an entryway.
I envisioned a cozy place with a country bench, a braided rug, and a hall tree with mirror.
One night I mentioned it to my husband.

I can build that for you, he said confidently.
I saw the wheels begin to turn, designing the construction in his engineer brain.
Later I saw him make a few sketches.
The foyer was as good as done in his mind.

I was working at a bank at the time.
One Friday night, he announced that he was off from work the next week.
It was a short week due to a September holiday, so he only had to take a few days vacation.
I will have the foyer built for you in a week.

I knew that he was handy.
I knew that he loved to build, and repair things, and do woodworking.
But a foyer in a week?
Impossible, I thought, but never said.

The day of the Monday holiday he announced that he was pulling up the rug.
I was ready to run for the hills because we didn’t know what we would find there.
He had his tools in hand and looked at me.
Ready? Do you really want me to do this?

The point of no return and I was a bit nervous.
He began to lift the edge of the rug away from the metal strip near the kitchen.
I don’t believe it, I heard him exclaim.
I stood there cringing behind him, afraid to look.

He moved a bit so I could see.
Under the rug were beautiful hardwood floors.
Too beautiful to be covered with a rug.
He began to pull up the rug to reveal more of the wood’s warm chestnut color.

The day of the September holiday, he bought everything he needed.
Wood, nails, dry wall, Spackle, dry wall tape, and paint.
He was ready to begin the next morning.
He loved projects and was in his element.

I left for work the next day, planning to come home for lunch to eat with my husband.
He had begun to frame the wall that morning and had a lot done by lunchtime.
When I returned at the end of the day, the framing was finished.
Tomorrow is the dry wall, he said, not one of his favorite things to do.

He began early and I told him I would see him at lunch.
He warned me that there would be a thin layer of dust over everything.
The dry walling process was a bit messy.
Don’t worry, I will clean everything up.

There was and he did.
In a matter of days the wall was completed.
I had a foyer with hardwood floors.
It was more than I ever imagined.

By the weekend, it was painted, trimmed, and finished.
I found a country bench and an over sized country crock.
I purchased a hall tree, which has been in the foyer of all the homes we have lived in.
There was a braided rug by the door.

One hundred years after the Babylonian captivity, the Jews returned to Jerusalem.
The temple had been rebuilt, but the city was barely occupied.
The Jews lived in the surrounding towns and villages and were mixing with the culture.
They were in danger of losing their identity because their wall was broken down.

Nehemiah heard about the wall and the gates.
He was in great distress and he wept.
He mourned and fasted and prayed to God.
He was cupbearer to the king, and asked the king to return to Jerusalem to rebuild it.

God granted him favor and the king agreed to let Nehemiah go back to Jerusalem.
Nehemiah arrived at night and inspected the state of the wall.
He told no one about what he had planned to do until the time was right.
He inspected first and then told them his plan.

Then I said to them, ” You see the trouble we are in: Jerusalem lies in ruins and its gates have been burned with fire. Come, let us rebuild the wall of Jerusalem, and we will no longer be in disgrace. I also told them about the gracious hand of my God upon me and what the king had said to me. (Nehemiah 2:17, 18)

Nehemiah brilliantly organized the workers.
People repaired the section of the wall that was right in front of their house.
Professionals worked next to laborers; family members worked side by side.
There was opposition, as Nehemiah expected, but he continued to do God’s work.

So the wall was completed on the twenty-fifth of Elul, in fifty-two days. When all our enemies heard about this, all the surrounding nations were afraid and lost their self-confidence, because they realized that this work had been done with the help of our God.
(Nehemiah 6:15,16)

In his poem, The Mending Wall, Robert Frost says,
Before I built a wall I’d ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offense.
Something there is that doesn’t love a wall…

A wall separates one side from another.
A wall welcomes and beckons as it defines and borders.
A wall protects.

When we sold our house five years later, we were pleased with the description.
Beautiful, 4-bedroom Colonial complete with foyer and hardwood floors…
Something there is that doesn’t love a wall.