Light in the Gaps
art studio, places in the heart, and hope
What a beautiful day we are enjoying!
Sunny with blue skies—I’m sitting in my home art studio and staring out the windows. Tall palm trees sway in the rather strong breeze. I’m hesitant to call it a wind since we just came through two hurricanes; talk about wind! My home art studio is a large room on the back side of our house, once accessible through sliding glass doors. Years ago, we removed the sliders to enlarge the kitchen. We are the second owners of our 1963 built home. The original owners enclosed a patio and, fortunately for me, they put windows on three sides thus allowing me views on the north, west and south. Sounds grand! But it’s only my backyard. Along with the positive aspects of this space, there are just as many negative ones, although we’ve made some nice changes to it over the years. One of those more recent changes, thanks to my husband, was to install a set of bi-fold doors with a French door flair—the entrance to my studio. I had been saving a vintage glass door knob which he separated and used on the doors. I love the way it turned out. There are two other doors in the studio. One leads to the garage and the other leads to the backyard. As for the art studio, a little make-over might be in order. I’m here for it!
Hurricanes change the landscape of the place you call home.
All around us trees have fallen (some on homes). About a decade ago, it was our house with trees falling on it. And just two years ago, a tropical storm took our last Pine tree—half of it anyway. The top half landed on our fence, skimming our neighbor’s roof. We left the remainder of the trunk for the Red Bellied Woodpeckers to tap, tap, tap.
Lately, generators and chainsaws have provided the soundtrack of daily (and nightly) life. There is a neighbor at the turn of our street who still needs his generator. It’s the way it is. The force of the wind and the surge of the water is a powerful agent of change. There are light filled gaps where large trees once stood. It is strange. And yet, we’ll grow accustomed to the new landscape. I’ll walk the neighborhood and sigh a bit, remembering how it was. (But the loss of a few trees is nothing to be compared with the devastation and loss others have suffered as a result of the hurricanes.)
The mighty tree toppling winds—changing the landscape in its destructive path, reflects a fresh toppling of my own. We all, in one way or another, face the winds of change. Perhaps those winds are of the tropical storm variety or maybe the 130 mph gusts of a hurricane. Oddly, the toppling on a personal level occurred the night of the second hurricane—Milton. As we took shelter, the winds howled, the rain beat against the windows and the power went out. It was a fitful night and I’m not convinced I slept at all. Before light of day, we returned home. As the sun rose, we saw the destruction. A tree blocked our path. Our house was undamaged except for flooding in my art studio. (So grateful!) Of course, the wind had done its work; there were small branches strewn all about our yards and the garden beds were bedraggled. The power was out for days but we have a generator. Neighbors walked the streets and talked with one another. Cleanup began immediately. And then I went to bed! I slept like a woman drugged.
Even in my slumber, I felt my personal landscape changing...again. My heart and mind, fresh from that sheltered place, began to churn. High hopes toppled just as though a wind blew through. A bit of the light flickered then dimmed. Debris was the leftovers. And cleanup has begun. Yes, high hopes have toppled but all hope is not lost. When what you thought is not what you get, there is a dissonance that must be reconciled. Thoughts, words, prayer. These three are the candles in my night. Hope must be placed in the Only One who holds all things together. No place, no other person can do His job. I know how to adapt to gaps where substance once stood. Even as I just begin to walk again a well trod path, I’ll sigh a bit and remember how it was…and how I thought it might be. As for my heart and mind, a little makeover might be in order. I’m here for it.
But look there! The empty gaps are even now filled with Light. And that Light brings Hope…again.
May Your faithful love rest on us, Lord, for we put our hope in You. - Psalms 33:22
Thanks for spending a little time with me today. Until next time, keep the faith and stay hopeful!
Melanie
I love the light and hope that flow through this piece. Your words are beautifully written. The word “dissonance” is perfect.
I remember when I first learned that word in an art class. I think “dissonance” helps us see more clearly.
I think a little dissonance in the church is okay. But not in anger but in recognizing that God made us different but special in His eyes.
Open the eyes of our hearts, Lord.
was praying the storm wouldn’t be as bad as what was originally stated. ❤️