This week I find myself at one of my favorite places on earth.  Normally, it is a place where I find complete rest, peace, relaxation, and a re-filling/fueling of my spirit.  It’s a place where I see old friends, spend time with family, and get to love on lots of kids.  Normally, I’m in my element.  Just the right mix of being in charge, and having some down-time, this place feeds my soul.


This year, I find myself in a completely different space, while in the same physical place.  This year I find myself surrounded by grief.  Awash in a field of sadness, all while bathing in an ocean of peace.  It’s a weird feeling to say the least.  Nothing traumatic has happened lately.  No new reasons for grief—-simply old wounds opening once again.

At first I was confused.  But then as I was struggling to fall asleep last night I realized this is happening not despite of the fact that I’m here, but really precisely because I’m here.

This place is a holding space for me.  It’s always been a place where I feel God’s spirit, and where I can hear God’s voice more clearly… why wouldn’t this be the space that my spirit feels ready and able to open old wounds so that they might be healed?  At home I’m often so busy caring for others’ needs and pain, I can’t and don’t always care for my own.  At home I’m so precisely scheduled that I sometimes barely have time to breath let alone look for holding space for my own spirit’s need.

So today, I find myself grateful.  Grateful for the grace that comes amid chaos and the grief that comes amid peace.