30 Days ago my life went up in smoke literally. My house caught on fire and my sons and friends and neighbors watched it as the flames hungrily ate through the deck, the electrical, walls, eaves, and then into my bedroom to devour everything in sight. The charred remains still sit upstairs in an empty house that has been home to me, my sons, my granddaughters, and many friends since 1995. That house has been much more than a house- it has been the keeper of memories, laughter, tears, growth, disappointments, secrets, achievements, joys, first steps, and memories of my lifetime.
In it were material goods that had come to matter very much- comfortable, pretty furniture, art, clothes, children's art projects, journals, soft sweaters, hand knit blankets-many "things" that can never be replaced. Most of all in it, I have learned recently, was the sense of sacred space.
Finally, a space where I felt safe had been created and it was beautiful and good.
I am relearning what sacred space is now. I am trying every day with each new morning to be thankful for all that I do have, not what I have lost. To focus on the gift of life, and the opportunity of newness. But It is not easy. And when people say, "It's just stuff"- I want to slap them- yes, I do, and say- hey- you try wearing other people's stuff- underwear, shoes, and see how it feels. Try telling your 4 year old granddaughter that her favorite dresses and toys that were "hers" that it was just stuff....Obtuse? Oblivous? or just callous?
I trust that God is working, teaching me many lessons right now. One obviously is detachment from things, but the other is that comfort comes in many ways. Sacred space- and a sense of home for me- now is much more mobile. It does not reside anymore at 1319 Pine Valley. I can taste a glimpse of it when with a friend having coffee sitting in silence, or walking on the Ouachita trail, or skating by the big dam bridge. I would not have survived the past few weeks without my church family- they have been awesome and some strangers have shown more kindness than any relatives. Isn't life strange? It is a beautiful, precious, fragile gift for which I say- thanks be to God.
