Where Is Your Home?
Repost from the summer: Yesterday, I thought of two men. One had everything by the world’s standards. One had nothing. I ran into one of the men Sunday afternoon at an open house. It was down the street from a home we once renovated in Fort Worth’s esteemed Cultural District. This guy had everything and so did the home (left), all reflected by the cool 2.5 mil price tag! He spent over 12 months renovating the place, then moved to Houston a year ago and was forced to sell. It’s been on the market ever since.
Then I thought of another man. His name was Charlie Tapscott. By the world’s standards, he had nothing. Charlie was homeless. He became a good friend to me and my family over the last year and tragically passed away this past spring. Charlie never really wanted a home, and I’ve never met someone so content with nothing. Over the last year of his life, I think he realized where his real home was. It definitely wasn’t Fort Worth, Texas! 
What about you? Is this place your ultimate home or is it truly a temporary place to live for you? Are you investing in things that will some day rot or fall down or are you investing in something less temporary. I’m not dogging anyone with nice stuff or a nice home; I’ve lived in my fair share of luxury homes over the last six years. It’s pretty cool for awhile, but just like anything else, before long the buzz wears off. I know some people with great places that use them for great causes. I’m also not saying you’re a loser if you’re not homeless. I’m just wondering if some of us don’t sort of get caught up in the rat race. More, more, more mentality. Never enough, never content.
Do you ever fall into this mentality? How do we get out of this mindset? Where is your home?
speaking of excess… http://realestate.msn.com/blogs/listedblogpost.aspx?post=1229160&_blg=1
This world is not my home, I’m just a passin’ thru.
It’s still odd to me at times to pull up to church and not see Charlie there. Although I was sad when he passed, it was a huge blessing for him. Never again will he be too cold, too hot, hungry, unclean and his struggle with addictions is no longer…When I think about how great my life is and I don’t want to leave what I know, I try to comprehend the great life that is truly to come.
My name is John Tapscott. I had a brother called Charlie Tapscott. He was born in 1958. He was friendly and generous to all. In 1975, at the age of not quite 17, he was struck off his motorcycle and left with only one arm and leg. He had many difficulties in coming to terms with this disability. He married and had 2 children. When he went bankrupt and the marriage failed, his wife left him, taking the children, whom he only saw one more time in his life. There was a divorce. Charlie later married another woman with whom he had a daughter. Later when his business ran into difficulty partly because of a drought he could not face the prospect of another bankruptcy and died from an overdose of prescrition medicine. He was 35. This happened in NSW Australia, 1993.