Shelter From the Storm

Daily TV news reports show the ravages of the storms that have hit the Pacific Northwest over the last month. Hundreds of people have lost their homes. Seeing the shots of these wrecked houses with people’s possessions and lives spread about in the mud and wind and rain is so sad. It makes the small roof leak at my house seem inconsequential.

My home, modest by any measurement, is my sanctuary. When I am inside with the door locked I feel so safe and private. I’m surrounded by furniture I have lived with all my life. By all the things that have meaning for me…books, photos, memories. My comfortable bed, my new TV, the crib for the new grandchildren. To lose all that would be devastating and my heart goes out to the folks affected by the floods and winds.

I cannot imagine the pain of being cast out from here. Perhaps shivering in the cold and waiting on the roof for rescue. Last night as the wild winds battered the house and the windows shook and the old bones of the structure creaked, I realized how important my home is. Although I have lived in many different dwellings over the years, each has been “home” while I was there.

This morning as I sit with my coffee, reading the paper and watching the storm outside, I am so blessed to be safe in my home. The Hideaway. Shelter from the storm.