Life can wear on all of us.
We all begin new, fresh, with smooth skin and clear hearts. We watch the world with open eyes and open minds. We grow, we gain. Love. Learn. Live. And then somewhere at some point we sustain our first wounds. Our first breaks. Our first scars. Seasons change, the sun sets on countless days. Hearts splinter, eyes rust from tears, foundations crack from broken trust, beams rot after abandon, the weight of the world bends our frames. The walls that protect our hearts and our homes can grow weak. Structures are discarded, destined to disintegrate from disuse and disregard—until someone comes along and recognizes that we are not entirely useless. There is a lot to clear out: pieces beyond repair, wounds too deep, parts unusable. But they tease out the scar tissues, smash out the infested, burn the bad, level you to the ground, and suddenly you are salvaged. The tearing down, the hammers to your roof, the saws to your sides, it all hurt like hell. But saved boards mix with well-built posts, new rafters with old zinc tiles, strong bones covered with fresh flesh. Straighter nails, better construction, sturdier structure.
The tearing down is never easy, nor is the rebuilding. But in the end we suffer the bruises, the blisters, the blood, because the home for the heart is more beautiful than before. And we are all better for it.
*A huge thank you to the entire Valley crew for hosting us Anthro kids for the week. Even more thanks to Kylie and the Animal Science girls for letting me get my hands dirty on such a wonderful project as the shed, and for reminding me of how capable we all are to do so much good when we put our minds and muscles to it.*
Leave a Reply