Evergreen Wood Chips

I overslept this morning and my guy went to church without me. This was just fine, especially since we are dog-sitting a little pup with separation anxiety (we call him Needy Petey – we adore him!) and we weren’t sure what to do with him if we both went to church.

Anyway… Petey and I went out for our morning walk and my favorite part of the prairie path is when we walk past huge piles of wood chips. This time of year, those piles smell like fresh piney goodness from all the chopped-up Christmas trees. I love it. This morning as we walked by the piles, I inhaled deeply and let out a long, “ahhhhhhhh!” It always makes me smile to breathe in that pine smell.

It got me thinking of the beauty and purpose that can come out of a death.

Of course, my mind went to the death of Midday Connection. This was also the death of my identity, purpose, income, and mission (btw – in this in-between time, God’s doing some great work in this area of my life). Honestly, while I appreciate it whenever a former listener contacts me to say how much they miss Midday, I feel like my heart breaks just a little more. It’s been surprisingly painful to hear all the affirming comments from people who say they grew, learned, were challenged and encouraged by Midday Connection – how we were their friends.

I’ve been trying to sort out the “whys” and “what nows” as I reflect on my response to the comments. As I smelled the pine this morning, I got an image of a fragrant pile of Midday Connection wood chips – it’s no longer what it was, of course, no longer alive and active. But now it has purpose and beauty that looks different – it’s all spread out in little pieces, in each of you. May you take the fragrance of what you learned and gained from Midday Connection and take it to your friends, family, and world. That thought makes the pain of loss a bit more bearable.