I told myself this when I ran a load of laundry with a crayon in a pocket. I opened my dryer to find this...
A hand-smocked outfit covered in orange and blue. Also, the big boys church khaki's. I was mad, frustrated, etc. But I thought about the families in Connecticut celebrating Christmas without their children and reminded myself that it's just stuff.
The phrase hit home again last night. Chris and I had just poured a glass of wine. I was on the phone with Susan in Winfield when we lost power. I walked to my cell phone to send her a text that I would call later. A text came in from my Rector stating "A tornado is headed to Levert Street. Take cover immediately."
We huddled in the bathroom but the storm turned and did not affect our house. In the bathroom, we got a frantic phone call from Dottie. Her house had been hit. She was fine. Chris left in the midst of bad weather to be with her. He couldn't get to her street, so he parked as close as he could. It was then that he heard Trinity Episcopal Church took a direct hit.
There are only three places on Earth that I call home: my parent's house where I was raised, my house where Chris and I are raising our boys, and 1900 Dauphin Street. Trinity Church has truly been my home for thirteen years. In it, I have seen my sister get married, my boys get baptized, and my father-in-law laid to rest. I have served on Vestry, Altar Guild, a capital campaign, a search committee, chaired committees, taught Sunday School. I have served as a Lector and Oblation Bearer. To say we are invested is an understatment. Other than our children, Trinity is the most frequent recipient of Chris and my's time, talent, and treasure.
And my dear friends, I believe the building is lost. It hasn't sunk in. As Sara, our Rector's wife, called me last night from the sanctuary, I told her that I couldn't talk about it. It was too delicate and too raw for me to experience in front of my boys. I haven't been but the pictures are bad enough.
As I said in this
post, home is where you make it. Home isn't walls and neither is a church. We'll be all right. It's just stuff, right?
