Hollows, havens, and hope.

July 3, 2023

Day 2,447

     I love watching America's Got Talent. Oh my goodness. What a fabulous show. I think the thing that I love the most about it is that it showcases the very best of people, and I don't mean their special talent. It is a show that brings out the best in people. Strangers from all over the world come together and are happy for another stranger after a good performance. Strangers laugh with each other. They cry with each other. Another person's sorrow becomes everyone's sorrow. Another person's joy becomes everyone's joy. That show shows the best of people, and it gives me hope for humanity. I'm not the kind of person that is always down about the world, but it feels heavy sometimes. It can feel hopeless. It can feel loveless. But when I watch America's Got Talent, I am reminded that there are lots of good people out there doing lots of good things. 

     Tonight, we watched an audition of a man who sang an original country song about his dad who died because of a drunk driver. It was beautiful, sad, and powerful. It reminded me of some words written by Katherine Applegate in her book Wishtree:

 

"I'm not just a tree, by the way. I'm a home. A community. Folks nest on my branches. Burrow between my roots. Lay eggs on my leaves. And then there are my hollows. Tree hollows--holes in a trunk or branch--are not uncommon, especially in trees like me who've been around awhile.

Hollows happen for many reasons. Woodpeckers. Fallen branches. Lightning. Disease. Burrowing insects. 

Hollows are proof that something bad can become something good with enough time and care and hope."

     Those words: "Hollows are proof that something bad can become something good with enough time and care and hope." Wow. Such wisdom hidden in the pages of a children's book. I know those words are true. When I think about a hollow in my own life, I think about River. I remember thinking that when she died, God had turned His back on me. I remember thinking I was being punished. I didn't know it at the time, but River's life had nothing to do with punishment and everything to do with blessings.

     It's like this: 

No matter what I do, the hollow will always be there. 

I can let it stay a wound and never let it heal. I can be like a dog nursing an injured paw and not let anyone touch it or look at it or get near it. 

Or, I can make my hollow a haven for others. It can be a home and a safe place for someone else who is pain. I can shelter someone in their time of need and provide comfort where there is suffering. 

     I watched that man on America's Got Talent turn his hollow into something beautiful tonight. I watched as people cried and were moved by his words and his story. I watched the people in the audience hold onto the hope that floated off of every word he sang. Hope is so powerful. It turns hollows into havens. 

     Thankful for hollows, havens, and hope. Thankful tonight and every single night for my River Hope Sanderson. Thankful for tears: the happy ones and the ones that come when you remember someone very dear. Thankful for this space to write. I don't know what I would do without it. Thankful for powerful words. Thankful for people. Thankful for when I can see evidence of goodness and love in this world.