When an animal is wounded or traumatized, it seeks a place of safety and supply where they can rest up, restore, to heal or lick their wounds we say. In my case, a human animal, the same thing has taken place over the years.
Life is not always a picnic, right? Stuff happens, sometimes very painful and damaging stuff. Instinctively, we move toward the safe space, where we can get our functions and courage back in shape for the rest of our living. Some have so much trauma in their lives that not having this place of safety will probably retard their healing and shorten their lives.
When we lived in western Kansas for 18 months, I sought out such a place. I had them back east in New York State and sometimes in northwest Jersey, wonderful natural spaces. But living in Goodland Kansas was tough. We had four churches to care for, thirteen counties, two time zones and two states where those churches were located. It was something else. Lots of good people in those churches, salt of the earth farmers, teachers, salesman, ranchers and the like. The missing ingredient for me was a place to heal.
So we went to the mountains most months, Rocky Mountain National park or some part of the front range. One time we were just north of Colorado Springs in Castle Rock. Sometimes you would come across a piece of land for sale that bordered the national forest areas. It was a good deal to find an acre at 20,000$ or so, with a huge backyard playground or forest just beyond your property line.
I really wanted a place like that but ended up settling for trips out to the mountains, never having a permanent place of my own. I was happy to have the temporary places in nature but I would have loved something more in my name that I could put my life into.
After 30 years of ministry, we never found such a permanent place. Add 8 years of Chaplaincy for some 38 years and we ended up with something very much like what I always wanted. It’s smaller, less rugged, less natural eye candy, but it is 15 feet from my back door. And it fits the bill of what I always wanted, a place to heal.
After my stroke, I knew I needed a place for such healing more than ever. And so we began a new leg of our journey in healing and family here at Holmes Lake. My name is not on the deed to the park, I think the Corp of Engineers probably feels it belongs to them, but I’m good with that. What they don’t know, won’t hurt them, I still feel like its mine.
Mostly I feel that way because it’s where I live my life with my wonderful wife and son and daughter and our furry ones. It’s mostly where I am learning to move into healthier living than I ever have before. It’s a place to heal. Every morning we walk the circuit around the lake and we check on her health as well as ours and we check on the health of its inhabitants and patrons as well, animal and human.
It’s a place of healing and I hope you have one, big or small may not matter as much as just having a place to stop and slow down and heal. You can only do good work when you have good health. Argue with that if you like, but it is largely true. A good place to heal is a great place to embark from into the surrounding community. I think you need such a place.