Rebuilding

My oldest is currently on a tour of Asia and is doing a magnificent job of blogging about her experiences.  One of the things she wrote about today was how interesting it is to be in Tokyo and hear the tour guide talk about the things that used to stand where big new buildings are now. Places that were ravaged by war or earthquake or fire, now hold no image of what used to be. We have often lamented the fact that our city really has no historic buildings. I love old buildings…architecture that required skilled craftsmen at stonework, plaster, glass, wood carving…beauty that sometimes gets lost in the quest to build bigger, better, more modern. I miss seeing remnants of days gone by…smelling the aroma of antiquity.

Once again, I see pictures of my life in that. I feel like an old building that was beautifully constructed, remodeled a few times, showed signs of wear but was standing strong ready to weather all that life would bring. Little did I know that there was a tornado coming that would wipe out the foundation, take off the roof, shatter windows and level all of the walls.  It seems as if my life will forever hold the date of January 21, 2016 as the dividing line between the before and after. On that day, everything changed. I woke up the next morning and it was as if I had just come out of the storm shelter only to find nothing but debris scattered everywhere. 

I remember as a child, growing up in tornado alley, experiencing the devastation that a tornado can bring in a matter of minutes. I remember driving through the neighborhood seeing people’s clothes hanging from trees; finding priceless family pictures that belonged to someone else in our front yard; seeing animals and people try to find their bearing, not even recognizing their own street. Sometimes there was a warning, but at other times, it seemed to drop out of the sky in an instant and catch everyone off guard. 

That’s how my tornado hit. No warning. No siren. No emergency interruption on the TV. It just dropped out of the sky and leveled everything in its path. I’m still trying to find my bearing…looking for landmarks from the life before…finding family pictures splattered with the mud of realizing he was doing it then. I don’t see very much of my life before existent in this life after…other than the breath I breathe in and out of my lungs.  

My body is changing…my hair is falling out in handfuls…new wrinkles,…rapid weight loss…a stomach that never feels quite right…hands that shake and legs that feel weak. My surroundings have changed…I don’t even have a permanent home right now. Family has changed…the family I loved (in laws) I thought I had for 30 years has been snatched away as if they never existed…the relationship with my kids forever altered. My passion for my career has been doused like a fire drenched with a cold bucket of water. Weekends and evenings are spent wondering what happened instead of enjoying dinners with our couple friends laughing, sharing, eating and drinking. Nothing feels the same. Everything has the marks of the tornado of betrayal sprayed on it.

I wonder, one day, will someone say of me like they do of the lost buildings of Tokyo, “I remember when she looked like______. “ or “Remember how before it all was uncovered we used to _____?” or “I don’t remember what it was like before, but I’ve heard_______.”  

My only hope is that now that everything has been razed, maybe a new foundation can be laid…one that is stronger and more deeply grounded.  New walls can be constructed…fortified with the knowledge that another tornado can hit and take them down again. Maybe the windows will give a view of a different landscape…seeing a little more clearly the horizon and the threat of an impending storm. Maybe this new shelter will be a place where others who have had their own tornado, can find comfort and strength and healing. And maybe…just maybe it will be a place where a new life can be formed that doesn’t hold too many memories of the tornado that ravaged the old dwelling that once stood there. 

“Your people will rebuild the ancient ruins and will raise up the age-old foundations; you will be called Repairer of Broken Walls, Restorer of Streets with Dwellings. Isaiah 58:12