Our family has heard a lot of whining this week. Most of it has come from me, to be perfectly honest. We are undergoing a complete floor replacement, and with it has come a generous amount of dis-placement that regularly threatens to send me into orbit for the chaos. If ever we were literally living "inside out", it would be this week. Our furniture is stacked in a corner, food is boxed up and sitting in my office, and the dining room table is crammed inside the kitchen. Fun? Not so much.
I had an epiphany the other day, however, while visiting with staff at Safe Harbor Inn on Muldoon Road.
I have been working with Safe Harbor in planning Trinity's visit as part of the "30-Minute Service Day" coming up this Sunday, so I communicate fairly regularly with staff, a temporary home for displaced families and others needing an affordable, safe place of residence while receiving other community services.
My frustration at not knowing where my stuff is must pale in comparison to the feeling of helplessness for some of the families who call Safe Harbor "home" for the time being. Some families have boxes and boxes of possessions that sit in cars for lack of space in their hotel-style room. Others keep clothing in suitcases, bikes and toys outside (hoping they will still be there tomorrow). Still others have nothing. And I'm complaining about my completely functional furniture corralled in a corner of my warm and cozy home, waiting for a new floor to be installed?
Humility reigns in my heart, today, as it always seems to whenever I stop running and fussing and fuming long enough to listen to its quiet reminder of blessings.
That's living Inside Out.
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