β€œHome is the nicest word there is.”
Laura Ingalls Wilder

In the midst of the overwhelming horrors in Gaza, Iraq, Syria, Ukraine, etc, there are two things I’m especially thankful for this week: home and HONY.

Home has never been so precious to me as it is now, as I see so many people without a home to go to. Their homes have been abandoned to preserve their lives, destroyed in bombings, taken by those who think they have the right to steal the possessions, security, and humanity of others.

And I ache for the terrifying sense of displacement they must feel, the utter loss of belonging and community and security, the agony of separation from their loves, the deep fear as they look forward, not knowing where to go or what to do.

As I grieve for them from afar, feeling small, helpless, angry, and sad, I turn to the stories of HONY for comfort, hope, and assurance that even in the midst of cruelty, there is much goodness.

HONY is normally a site that captures the oh-so-relate-able humanity of people on the streets of New York City through poignant photos and moving stories. This week the photographer is in Iraq, bringing the griefs, joys, hopes, longings, doubts, questions, and fears of Iraqis to the light, revealing the common things that connect us all no matter where we’re from, no matter what we’re going through. If you can, visit the HONY Facebook page and see a side to this country that most of us have never seen.

pink hollyhocksToday Bear and I were out and about for appointments in different towns. As we drove around I kept thinking how lucky we were to have a home to go back to. A place that is ours, a haven of safety where we can rest, relax, be ourselves, and build whatever life we see fit.

I could hardly wait to get back, to be in our house, on our land, the place where we belong. We both spent the afternoon outside, giving cuddles to the dogs, laughing at the chickens, throwing extra pellets to the goats, wandering through the gardens to see what plants had shot up overnight.

I felt indescribably grateful, my breath catching at little vignettes of beauty around me: fennel fronds covered in water droplets glistening in the sun, frilly heads of kale pushing up through golden straw, our youngest chickens laying their first tiny eggs.

multi-colored kaleAnd this sense of belonging, safety, and connection is what I wish for all of us. ALL of us. Israeli and Palestinian, Christian and Muslim, Ukrainian and Russian, refugee and citizen. I have no idea how to make it happen, but maybe, by highlighting our shared humanity as HONY is doing, the divides between us will shrink, and strong, brave, powerful people will find a way to build peace.

I hope so.

new asparagus As I hope for peace and healing in the broken places of this world, I will nourish kindness and generosity of spirit in my own heart and celebrate every bit of good I can find: the first stalks of asparagus in my garden, kind friends and neighbors, a country where I get to live in freedom and safety.

What bits of goodness can you see in your world today? xo