After the Fire

Few things surprise me anymore. Fewer things humble me, stop me in my tracks and remind me I’m human, I’m fallible, and above all else, I’m one tiny cog in the mechanism of life.

Today, sitting in a rental house, contemplating the months before I’m able to return to my house, a home that will be vastly different, new, absent of the marks fifteen years of life once put on it, I’ve learned a lot. People who love you don’t see the things; people who care about you sift through ashes, the insulation-covered belongings, and roll up their sleeves to put it all back together. And people you see only occasionally step up and remind you that when you give, it comes back to you. I’ve always been quick to donate to those who’ve suffered loss, who go through trying times, to cook a meal for those who need it. Now, after the fire, to have so many people come help us at the house, others who’ve taught for us, who’ve rallied behind us, who’ve offered a thought, a prayer, a heartfelt ‘we’re there for you if you need us,’ renews my strength to overcome this. My house burned down but I didn’t lose my home. My home is with friends, with colleagues, with all the warm messages on Facebook, by email, and phone. I may not have as much as I did before Nov. 4th, but in many ways, I have so much more, and for that, I’m incredibly grateful…