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10.14.17

I don’t know what it’s like to lose a home (yet)… But I do know the sensation of having the ground under your feet suddenly fall away, leaving you with a life you hardly recognize. I’m sending this out to you, my friends who have lost so much in this week’s inferno.

***

 A house without love is not a home.

 Love without a home is still love.

So now you will take that love and start over, with ordeal-weary bodies and the strongest of pulls toward rest, solace, and simple affection. If you gather in one room together and begin with these, you will have a foundation.

You can’t even imagine it; but still, you can begin it. So make your rooms anew.

Capture moments circled close around food and a table. Any table.

Let laughter bounce off the walls—even new walls—and make music.

And although you’re used to making your own way, allow the big and small kindnesses of others to sit deep in your heart. This is God with skin on.

We will all be hungry for a friendly hello from someone we meet on the street: some tender, small kindness gently delivered from a person whose tank feels full enough in that moment to someone who is running on fumes, run dry from all of the trauma.

And so, in this way, you will build your community, your home, your house of love. Moment by moment… right alongside each other…breathing together. Exhaling the pain, inhaling the beauty wherever you find it.

***

Prayerfully,

Carrie

 

 

 

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