Jerusalem Journal # 197

 In Archive

It was a rainy Monday morning and my internet was down. Although the melancholy 1970’s song by The Carpenters goes, “Rainy days and Mondays always get me down…,” I was thankful for the drought-breaking precipitation on that Monday morning, but the internet being down—that was tough for a writer’s research abilities to handle without an attitude.

Aware that spring showers were continuing to refill the Sea of Galilee, I had stocked up enough wood in a galvanized bucket for a cozy fire to last me through the day. I was intent on burning up the last of an ancient woodpile so that I could start fresh next winter. The rains have allowed me to have extra time before Middle Eastern summer breezes become a blow dryer on high.

What is left of the wood now awaits the fire just inside.

The anniversary of when Gary and I married in 2005 was approaching and I wanted to do some writing, cradled in my grandmother’s vintage rattan sling chair, romanced by the amber warmth and light of a fireplace. Just as I settled in, there was an unexpected knock at the door.

My neighbor, still in construction mode after three years, was asking in broken English/Arabic about our electric tile saw, long silent since our renovation was completed in 2013. Before cancer visited, Gary and I had meticulously covered this beloved workhorse behind the woodpile in the carport until I recently burned through enough wood that it was visible and time to clean out the carport for, you guessed it, a car. My neighbor asked the price and as his workers plugged in the machine it began whirring. I was transported to another place and time, just like in a dream sequence. There, but not there.

Have you imagined a dream vacation? A dream house? A dream job? Not long after Gary and I met we were at an event in an unfinished space where an electric tile saw sat sidelined, awaiting the whir of blade meeting ceramic and the wash of water. As we walked past it I immediately announced to Gary, “Now THAT is my dream tool!” You should have seen his face!

A veteran do-it-yourself person, I have laid about 1,000 square feet of tile during multiple home projects in Florida using a RENTED tile saw. Gary, also a do-it-yourselfer, told me later that it was then he was sure he was falling in love with me. Romantic, right? A few years later I taught him how to tile and we made beautiful whirring music together as we renovated what became “The Place of Stories,” a shared nest where combined creativity was our love language. After past broken marriages with spouses who divorced us we were finally pulling in the same direction with shared passion. We shared dreams.

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Gary’s skill for laying tile quickly surpassed mine

Like awakening suddenly from a deep sleep, my reverie was abruptly cut short with the slam of van doors and my dream tool sped away without even a parting photograph of me beside it, leaving me with a whir of memories. I didn’t imagine that the blade of those memories could cut so deeply into the clay of my heart. Back inside, I slumped into the sling chair in tears. It was a new season. Time had moved on. Leaning in to feed the fire with fresh fuel I saw my tears had mingled with the ashes on the ledge.

We experienced many examples of “beauty for ashes.”

 

Karen Carpenter’s song lyrics continue,
“Funny, but it seems I always wind up here with you
Nice to know somebody loves me
Funny, but it seems that it’s the only thing to do
Run and find the one who loves me”

And that is exactly what I did, I ran and found The One who loves me. His words wash me and the cuts are surgically precise, preparing me to fit into the mosaic He is crafting with my life. He is the lover of my soul who whispers to my heart, “Those who sow in tears shall reap with joyful shouting. He who goes to and fro weeping, carrying his bag of seed shall indeed come again with a shout of joy, bringing his sheaves with him (Psalm 126:5-6).” God is my hope-giver who scatters the ashes of shattered or broken dreams to fertilize the soil for new dreams to grow into reality.

Are you walking through the fire right now? Have your dreams gone up in smoke? Run to The One who loves you…and choose to dream again.

Enjoying the walk home,
Cindy

[Click here] for details of my U.S. itinerary April 21-June 2. Hope to see you!

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