//even in the disaster//

The hammering is deafening, 

but today it’s for demolition and not for building. It’s being used to destroy in order to make space. 

And creating space sometimes takes some breaking. A breaking of the walls that stand in the way. 

My chest tightens,

My breath is held.

My eyes wince with each heavy blow.

I want to both look away and watch for any signs of the cement countertop cracking. That large one attached to the very same wall.

The red brick dust puffs up in the air, like clouds inside searching for a way out. I watch it surrender and settle, leaving a heavy layer of muted crimson over everything left exposed. 

The clean dishes from this morning are still drying under the big towel draped over them. Hidden under a blanket of terry cloth they rest. 

They wait. 

As do I. 

I know it won’t all be finished today or even tomorrow. And so I’ll have to find contentment in the mess of this situation. Where creating room to move and make home, also lends itself to uncertainty and unknown. 

Despite my apprehension, the disaster of demolition is paving the way for a new thing. 

To build stronger. 

To believe harder. 

To trust more. 

To value the process. 

To celebrate the progress.

To breathe deep even in the middle of the dusty clouds and crumbling bricks. 

To look at the mess and still make memories and the in between moments count. 

To hold this space. 

This is not just about busting a massive hole in our wall, but speaks to the dreams and plans that are still in the making. 

For what’s been lost and what is to come. 

To remain steadfast until the very end. 

And to participate regardless of how this building process unfolds. 

To find delight even in the disaster. 

And peace in those unfinished places.