The house next door

The woman two doors down from us is moving away, so the two of us went out for coffee. The elephant in the room was the subject of the house between hers and ours. Lori and I have lived in our respective domiciles for almost 30 years and have done the normal upkeep: lawn care, repairs, roof replacement, paint job. The house wedged between us was collapsing before we moved onto the street and is in an advanced state of decay.

Lest you think I exaggerate, here is a partial catalogue: The hole-riddled roof is the free rein of four-footed critters, the blackened lace curtains have not been taken down and washed for three decades, the front porch overhang is precariously propped up by three long pieces of lumber that were meant to be temporary fixes but have become permanent, the decomposing Corvette in the backyard (it was there when I moved here in 1986) is now beyond recognition (in any case, its carcass can no longer be seen for the overgrowth that has engulfed it since the owner finally gave up mowing the backyard altogether), inoperable cars and a never ever used trailer sit in the driveway. In giving directions to first-time visitors, Lori used to tell them her house was “the one past the brown van”—that’s how fixed a topographical feature that stranded vehicle was for years.

The problem is obvious: Lori will not fetch a good price for her house because of the house next door.

To compound the problem, the owners of the eyesore are pleasant enough people and otherwise good neighbors. Moreover, they sometimes exhibit embarrassment and regret regarding the undesirable state of things but seem incapable of doing anything about it. They are both intelligent people (he is an engineer by training) but are somehow stuck.

The situation seems like a parable that I can’t quite work out in my mind. The best I can do with it is that there is no such thing as a private act or private choices. We are deceived to imagine that our choices in life affect no one but ourselves. Whether the personal choice is to be promiscuous, or to tell white lies, or to steal the boss’ time at work, or to have an abortion, or to let one’s house go, a “private” choice always lands on someone else beside oneself. It is easy enough to see another person’s “broken house”; the challenge is, of course, to see our own.

“For none of us lives to himself …” (Romans 14:7).