devastation

There used to be road there. 

There used to be a way through. 

The roads that used to criss cross Appalachia that were devastated in the flooding a year ago are still being rebuilt. The beautiful water, a gift of essential for life now glistening along the riverbed in the valley, didn’t always stay within it’s expected bounds. No one could have anticipated or prepared for what happened. The devastation is still so visible. 

My multiple friends who thought they knew who a man was at their wedding day, only to find out he wasn’t that man, are still untangling what it means to live in this space. The beautiful promise of a life lived together didn’t stay within what was right and good and true. The devastation is demoralizing.

Stories of friends of my very own, and the friends of my very own friends, are intersecting now with sweeping uncertainty in policy and inflammatory rhetoric politically making the place they thought was their home, no longer their home. The devastation is rending. 

There used to be a way through. You could see it. It was a road winding the river in the valley. It was an advocate and partner in life. It was a country with opportunity for hard work and family to make a home. 

In these days, I know there is hope. I know there is lovingkindness that never ends, because by very nature it cannot come to an end… He cannot. But right now, there are very real things that very much do not have bows on top of them. There are longings for what is right and good and true. For wholeness and healing, a flourishing. For justice. For the devastation to be put to an end.

And when the waves of unexpected tears come while driving down the half of the road still existing, I let them roll. And receive the words and glimmers of kingdom coming tenderly reminded by my brother. And receive the balm of kindness of so many in these days.