Home
The comfort of familiarity.
I am thankful for everything in that familiarity.
– – –
Our flight path flew over Paradise as smoke billowed and rolled into the valley, the clear sky turned ash gray.
Since we have been home the stories of family, friends, and others who live in Paradise and the surrounding area have been shared.
Utter lost, courageous acts, enormous guilt, so raw and tangible that the listening heart stretches out like a casted net rendering a tender place to land before falling in the vast void of what will tomorrow bring.
Though with such horrific sadness there are heroes, living saints and extraordinary kindness from strangers emerging. The surrounding communities have been true to the word… community.
Things can be replaced, homes can be rebuilt, neighborhoods reunited and over time wounds will heal.
But today it is faith and tears that reweave the torn cloth.
As a friend who lost everything except each other wrote:
"We are focusing on grace instead of grief."
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