My Dear Ones, most of you probably know by now that our son Jordan lost his home due to an apartment fire that totaled the duplex in which he and his partner lived. Praise be to God they and the animals are safe. Thy were able to salvage a few things that had been in bins under their bed but almost everything else was a total loss.
We are in awe of the generosity of our family and friends who sent money to help refurbish their home. Unfortunately, they are still not in an apartment and Daryl and I are housing them in a hotel. The landlord had three empty apartments but none of them were ready. The work to get one of them in condition for habitation is slow but we are hoping by the end of this week they can make a new home.
I am unsettled by Ash Wednesday this year. I usually welcome this someber season of the church year as we prepare for the forty days of Lent and head toward Easter. In Lent I can mourn the sad condition of our divided nation. I can wail for those who are hungry and displaced and tortured as I sit among the sorrow of Jesus journeying to the cross. This year however, I am distraught by the ashes. I do not know if I can have them put on my forehead. The vision of Jordan digging through the ashes of his home unnerves me. At one point he found a piece of jewelry for his girlfriend and she burst into tears and joy at the same time as she hugged him.
Those ashes are a bit like I feel at the moment - exhausted, frustrated and trying to have hope. Those burned out pieces of furniture feel like the rupture of unity in my soul. I weep as I long for brighter days of laughter and togetherness.
Yet again, hope springs eternal. New friends from church, whom we know only slightly, have donated items and money. Long time friends and of course our deep family have sent money and loving emails, texts and phone calls. These reignite the happy cells buried deep under the mass of sorrow. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Yesterday was a warm sunny day and I was able to take a walk in our garden. Much to my surprise, the camellias were blooming and the mint tea has started to shoot through the dirt. The irises are pushing hard to dance in the sun. I cannot help but be delighted. Hope is on the way!
I also was able to lead a class on "Art and Faith" at our church. Oh my, the dear sisters who attended just blessed my soul! We laughed, cried and discovered so many treasures together. I also am taking piano lessons from my sweet Daryl and they revive something in me.
So perhaps today I will receive the ashes after all. I will be reminded that "from dust you came and from dust you shall return." This sacred action will stir in me a deeper longing to notice the beauty, to tell you more often that I love you, to share the food, the shelter and the joy that I have with others. My dear ones, you are in my heart and I know I am in yours. May today turn you towards hope - even amid the ashes. Standing in the losses and knowing I am loved, Bonnie Lee
