I went for a walk this evening.
I thought I would be mesmerized by the brilliance of the sun fading over the horizon.
It was beautiful, don’t get me wrong. But it didn’t enchant me tonight.
The little boy playing recklessly in the front yard while his mama sat in a plastic lawn chair smiling at me as if to say, “Boys will be boys.”, stopped me in my tracks.
The pieces of furniture abandoned on the curb that, if they could talk, would tell stories of great sorrow and overwhelming joy looked more like pieces of artwork than trash.
The playhouse that is falling down in someone’s backyard with touches of childhood still etched into the wood pulled at that little girl inside of me wanting to play…wanting to pretend.
I realized once I got home that I had found exquisite beauty in the midst of the forgotten. In the midst of brokenness. In the midst of chaos.
If you’re reading this it’s probably not your first time to this blog. That probably also means that it will not come as a surprise to you that my husband and I will be moving to southern India in a matter of weeks.
India can be well described in those three simple words – Forgotten. Broken. Chaos.
But when I look at India I don’t see a billion unnamed, uncared for, and forgotten people. They have creative names passed down through the centuries and would stop at a moment’s notice to help their neighbor. Sure, many of their systems are broken. But look past that and you find strong, enduring and creative people who have learned how to live joyous lives. And yes. Chaos ensues on a daily basis as everyone hits those tiny streets. But that chaos means there is life! That chaos makes one rub shoulders with another and reminds us that we are not alone.
And in no time, I’m looking at the most beautiful place I’ve ever known.