Deja Vu

We are evacuated for the second time this year due to wildfire. It is surreal. It was surreal the first time, but re-living it is somewhat worse. Although we are under mandatory evacuation, I'm not that worried about our home. I'm worried about a community that was just healing from the November fire. It's just too soon and we're not ready for this trauma upon a trauma. My heart goes out to this city...to all the people (30,000) who are displaced. Everything has been cancelled, on hold, and yet some things continue...very bizarre. We're in a hotel and the girls are having fun...too young to really get the impact of what's going on. We watch a little news and they've seen images, but they feel safe. Plus they get to stay up late and watch Sesame Street in the morning and hang out by the pool. There was a benefit scheduled tonight to raise money for a beloved monastic community that lost their home in the last fire. The irony is deep and all around. I'm trying to stay positive. I just hate not being able to go home. I'm trying to think of it as a forced vacation, but it's hard. I know all will be well. But we just had our house painted on the inside to get the smoke smell out from the last fire. Hmmm...maybe it's time to move from this beautiful place that is just too fire prone.

It was Love that wrote this play

Snippets from my Sunday morning:

- puppy barking at something invisible outside.
- girls on the floor behind me playing with their toy jewelry.
- husband sleeping in.

Sounds pretty peaceful. And it is. But I've been so anxious lately. Like the air around me that I breathe in is full of static anxiety. Sometimes I get this way. Maybe it's just that I'm breathing in the collective anxiety that is so pervasive in the media...our world is in fear and anxiety. It's hard to not let it get to you. But the thing is, most of my moments are not anxious at all. If only I could live more in the moment. It's so easy, really! ;)

A few nights ago I took Husband on a date to hear David Wilcox sing live in a nearby town. He's one of my favorites. And he's completely different live. It's his gift. He doesn't just get up there and sing songs....he PRESIDES. Seriously. It's his priesthood. He is completely connected to God through his guitar and through his music and he bravely and vulnerably opens himself up to that Spirit, and it overflows onto us, the audience. It was healing. And I needed it! I've been walking around my days with my ipod listening to his music and using it like a talisman against this anxious air. There's one song, in particular, that made me weep as I listened. I'll post the lyrics which will fall short without the music...not at all the same, but nonetheless, here they are:

You say you see no hope,
you say you see no reason we should dream,
that the world would ever change.
You’re saying love is foolish to believe
‘cause there’ll always be some crazy
with an army or a knife
to wake you from your day dream,
put the fear back in your life…

Look, if someone wrote a play
just to glorify what’s stronger than hate,
would they not arrange the stage
to look as if the hero came too late?
He’s almost in defeat,
it’s looking like the evil side will win,
so on the edge of every seat,
from the moment that the whole thing begins,

It is Love who mixed the mortar
and it’s Love who stacked these stones
and it’s Love who made the stage here
although it looks like we’re alone
in this scene set in shadows
like the night is here to stay
there is evil cast around us
but it’s love that wrote the play…
For in this darkness Love can show the way

So now the stage is set.
You feel you own heart beating in your chest.
This life’s not over yet.
And so we get up on our feet and do our best.
We play against the fear.
We play against the reasons not to try
We’re playing for the tears burning in the happy angel’s eyes

For it's Love that mixed the mortar...etc.