Stuff is stuff

Why do we say the dumbest things to people who are hurting?  In the midst of trauma or heartbreak or loss or trials we say things like God’s timing or God’s will.  I mean I believe both of those things.  Just because God loves us doesn’t mean he takes our suffering away.  There is purpose in surviving tragic events.  No matter how you handle it.  Personally, my trials have made me a better human being.  But I don’t think I would want to do them again.

So, I‘ve been thinking about fire. 

We all know you can’t take it with you.  That things are just things.  That possessions are not what you should put your hope and trust in. 

But sometimes stuff is more than just stuff.

Sixteen years ago a historic mill my parents owned burned to the ground.  Vagrants had lit a fire in an old paint can,  They had been run off numerous times, but always managed to find a way back in.  The building, as I mentioned, was old.  The floors the most beautiful heart pine.  Which tends to burn and spread quick because of all the sap.  Needless to say, it went up fast.  Our whole family had things stored in one of the adjacent buildings.  Jim and I had just moved into a much smaller home and lots of our furniture was kept there.  Along with most of my high school and college memorabilia. 

No life was lost. 

It was just stuff. Ash and rubble were all that remained.  Nothing to salvage even though I combed through what I could when it was finally deemed safe.  Turns out I really miss my high school cheerleading jacket and my pom poms.  And the beautiful scrapbook my sorority big sis made for me.  All the zaps from the socials.  Half of a Rod Stewart poster I split with my roommate my freshman year.  A blue track jacket that belonged to Elvis that I had gotten from my Popa.  Yeah, it was just stuff.  But it was fun and gave happiness.  And I would have been wearing that red satin cheerleading jacket.