Though it was just the two of us in the house, we shared an experience with many.
Over the weekend, my husband and I traveled to the upper peninsula of Michigan to pick up our daughter from camp. The trek up to the north woods takes about seven hours so it’s typically not a one day trip for us. We had hoped to meet up with friends who have a lake home up there but they were not available. However, they offered the opportunity to stay at their place anyway. We happily agreed.
Though our time was brief, their home provided a venue through which we found place and belonging.
Being surrounded by others is not a requirement to possess a sense of belonging. Sometimes, it happens as we recognize our place within a place; somewhere in which many feet have walked before and more will walk after us. Somewhere in which God’s voice speaks in similar ways but fine tuned to the circumstances of each person.
So it was, that we were honored to find our place in the footsteps of others who have stayed at their home. Those who have found refuge in the yard; surrounded by tall trees testifying to God’s majestic and creative hand. Those who engaged in deep conversation or laughter at the kitchen table.
The unfinished puzzle lying on the table in the family room symbolizes the way we become part of a bigger story. The hands working it vary-young, old, smooth, rough-but each one works toward adding a piece to the bigger picture. Eventually, the image will emerge and it will be a result of the contributions of others along the way.
As I viewed the guestbook, my eyes were drawn to the hand written script of those who found their place; if even for a day, in this home. We are connected. Silent echoes of common struggles as well as sources of joy are embedded in these walls. And I’m honored to have join them in this place.
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