The Return Home

   "I waited patiently for the Lord to help me, and he turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the pit of despair, out of the mud and the mire. He set my feet on solid ground and steadied me as I walked along." Psalm 40:1-2

  Work has finally closed up shop at the arena. We are back where we belong: home. It is a second home for me because long before I worked at the drop in, I was a visitor. The centre was my sanctuary. It was a place of belonging in my darkest season. It was where I didn't have to be alone. It was where I could be myself: broken, sick, and with a heart and mind full of pain. Nobody tried to "fix" me. Nobody judged me. I was accepted just as I was.

  I've learned a lot about Christian values and what they mean through the staff who welcomed me.

  There is still much to do. Unpacking, setting up new furniture to replace what was destroyed by the fire, more unpacking. Like any move, it will take time for us to settle in. It will take time before we are totally up and running. If we are able to open the kitchen by the middle of next week, we'll have done well. Eventually, we can let people come in: the broken, the sick, and those whose hearts and minds are full of pain.

  I will be able to begin running my art group on Fridays. That's the best, being paid to do what I love. There's healing happening there, too, for the people who take part.

  Yesterday was the big move day. I got a text first thing. Covid had struck and removed the two staff who planned to be there. Not that long ago, such a sudden change would have sent me into complete panic. More on that in a minute.

  My friend was able to help load my SUV and her tiny hatchback. (I am incredibly blessed to have such a friend.) Another staff came in so once the cars were unloaded, she and I did one more trip. There's still a few larger items at the arena but there's no rush to get them.

  There was another little curve ball today. I don't normally work Thursdays but went in with plans of at least getting the kitchen in some kind of shape. However, there was a cleaning crew from the insurance company tasked with deep cleaning the stove, fridge and dishwasher. When I say deep clean, they practically dismantled the appliances. Three guys working took several hours to finish. So, no, the kitchen is still in shambles.

  Since the kitchen was a no-go, I just shifted gears. No grinding, no bewilderment, no anxiety, no frozen brain, nada. 

  Wow.

  Is this how other people live? Is this what it means to be well? But why now? Why not six months or six years ago?

  The only thing that has changed is my diet. God put Gina Livy's program in my friend's sights. He's the one who gave me the willingness to sign up to support her. I am in it for my own well being now.

  God must have known how much it would help.

  It's how He designed us.

  Pizza isn't harvested. Cookies don't grow on trees. Salami doesn't graze in green fields. I am chuckling at the thought. It would be impossible to know which end was the front! 

  If this much change has happened only 25 days into the program, I can't even imagine what it will be like at the end of the 91 days! It won't end there for me, though. If what I eat can make so much difference in my state of mind, why would I ever go back to the old ways?

  I guess this, too, is a coming home, a returning to the way it was meant to be.

  Lord, I can't begin to thank You enough.