YES this. Not the whitewashing or sugarcoating or "good vibes only" of spiritual bypassing, but we seek the "And yet" and "But then" of transformation and healing and regrowth and rewilding.
Beautiful words and gorgeous pictures! Your experience reminds me of a similar one my husband and I had at Hawaii’s Volcanoes National Park many years ago. We walked a path called “Devastation Trail” where hot lava from a previous volcanic eruption had flowed, burning everything in its path. On one side there was scorched earth, just complete destruction. On the other sprouting plants and other signs of new life were everywhere. In my scrapbook I titled the photo I took showing both “Death and Resurrection on the Devastation Trail.”
Another interesting but eerie sight was a highway that came to an abrupt dead end where lava had flowed across it. What used to be the rest of the road was a vast field of hardened black lava.
This is so amazingly written. I felt like I was walking through the trail with you!
Yes, after a fire, in life, physical, emotionally and mentally, life is different and we have to learn to live while new life is growing. I loved this so much! Thank you!
This is so beautiful on every level. Just behind our house in BC we have another space that had a wildfire go through. And though the landscape is transformed, it has regrowth that is beautiful. Perhaps this is the story of the church right now. I know it is also the gospel story of suffering and death and resurrection. Such a beautiful invitation to wander through the rewilding. Thank you.
Sarah - noticing is a key element in awe and we each need more consistent doses of that in our lives. Thank you for noticing and for being such a marvelous story teller. When we can lose ourselves we are open to awe. To seeing something that somehow defies even are best descriptors. It engulfs us in the mystery of life. I think you do that and I know you help us do that. Blessings on you, your family, your land, and your collective journey.
Thank you so much for this. My husband died a year ago and I know that life will weirdly come back to me after the devastation. Thanks for the reminder to start looking for the beauty in the aftermath.
This is so absolutely beautiful. I am living a similar physical reality in Prince Edward Island after the devastating losses we experienced last September with Hurricane Fiona. The new life that is emerging from the loss of so many trees and coastlines feels miraculous. It is hopeful even though landscapes and trails are forever altered. Thank you for this reflection.
I work in organ donation (almost exclusively on the donor side of things) and if this work isn’t flowers from the ashes, I don’t know what is. It’s hard, gut wrenching work but so beautiful. Thanks for articulating this so well.
My grandmother's name was Bertha. She was a precious Appalachian woman who loved God and people. To know that there is a gorgeous, mountainous place that bears her name makes my heart happy.
I'm in this space now....looking around at the ruins and seeing little springs of hope and healing. It's just such a long, long journey and it really effin' sucks because I'm tired. Thank you for this glimmer of hope. 💕
Sarah, this nearly brought me to tears. After going through (and in many ways still going through) a rough season, these words were a balm to my soul. I am reading Arielle Estoria's book The Unfolding right now, and she describes something similar but in moon phases. Fire and moonlight.
YES this. Not the whitewashing or sugarcoating or "good vibes only" of spiritual bypassing, but we seek the "And yet" and "But then" of transformation and healing and regrowth and rewilding.
Beautiful words and gorgeous pictures! Your experience reminds me of a similar one my husband and I had at Hawaii’s Volcanoes National Park many years ago. We walked a path called “Devastation Trail” where hot lava from a previous volcanic eruption had flowed, burning everything in its path. On one side there was scorched earth, just complete destruction. On the other sprouting plants and other signs of new life were everywhere. In my scrapbook I titled the photo I took showing both “Death and Resurrection on the Devastation Trail.”
Another interesting but eerie sight was a highway that came to an abrupt dead end where lava had flowed across it. What used to be the rest of the road was a vast field of hardened black lava.
This is so amazingly written. I felt like I was walking through the trail with you!
Yes, after a fire, in life, physical, emotionally and mentally, life is different and we have to learn to live while new life is growing. I loved this so much! Thank you!
This is so beautiful on every level. Just behind our house in BC we have another space that had a wildfire go through. And though the landscape is transformed, it has regrowth that is beautiful. Perhaps this is the story of the church right now. I know it is also the gospel story of suffering and death and resurrection. Such a beautiful invitation to wander through the rewilding. Thank you.
Sarah - noticing is a key element in awe and we each need more consistent doses of that in our lives. Thank you for noticing and for being such a marvelous story teller. When we can lose ourselves we are open to awe. To seeing something that somehow defies even are best descriptors. It engulfs us in the mystery of life. I think you do that and I know you help us do that. Blessings on you, your family, your land, and your collective journey.
Thank you so much for this. My husband died a year ago and I know that life will weirdly come back to me after the devastation. Thanks for the reminder to start looking for the beauty in the aftermath.
Thank you for taking us on this hike with you and leading us to look for the beauty under the ashes in our lives.
This is so absolutely beautiful. I am living a similar physical reality in Prince Edward Island after the devastating losses we experienced last September with Hurricane Fiona. The new life that is emerging from the loss of so many trees and coastlines feels miraculous. It is hopeful even though landscapes and trails are forever altered. Thank you for this reflection.
So very good. You rock:)
I work in organ donation (almost exclusively on the donor side of things) and if this work isn’t flowers from the ashes, I don’t know what is. It’s hard, gut wrenching work but so beautiful. Thanks for articulating this so well.
So true, Anna. Thank you for your work! It's a tender and terrible thing.
My grandmother's name was Bertha. She was a precious Appalachian woman who loved God and people. To know that there is a gorgeous, mountainous place that bears her name makes my heart happy.
I'm in this space now....looking around at the ruins and seeing little springs of hope and healing. It's just such a long, long journey and it really effin' sucks because I'm tired. Thank you for this glimmer of hope. 💕
This brought tears to my eyes. Yes. This.
Wow! I can imagine hiking this with you and taking in the sentiments all the same - beautiful
Poetically communicted. You have a gift with words.
Nina
Sarah, this nearly brought me to tears. After going through (and in many ways still going through) a rough season, these words were a balm to my soul. I am reading Arielle Estoria's book The Unfolding right now, and she describes something similar but in moon phases. Fire and moonlight.