I Have Arrived

"There comes a time when you roll up your sleeves and put yourself at the top of your commitment list."  ~  Marian Wright Edelman

I have arrived. I am in a new home--a transitional home. I am sitting in my new room. It was prepared for me with warmth and love by a dear friend, but also by new friends. A little gift package was waiting for me on my bed. It contained bath products, some practical, some more special. This room is perfect for me in many ways. When I came for the Christmas Open House, this was the room that stood out to me. It was cozy, simple, removed from the rest of the house. It didn't have the best view, but it was still a good one. "This is the room I would want," I thought to myself, still having no idea that I would be coming here myself. Last Friday, when I decided to accept the offer to come here, this was the room I kept picturing. I was delighted when Rachel lead me through the turns of the hallway to the very last room.

The walls are painted in a pale mossy green. The shade is warm, muted, relaxing and nurturing. When I look around at the furniture, I can tell that they have probably served other homes before, but they have been well cared for. The closet here is bigger than mine at home and I have a five chest of drawers. There were two notes left behind by previous residents. I found them in the first drawer.

“Dear Daughter of God,

This room has been prepared for you by your Father in heaven and the loving hands of friends at Drummond House. It has always been a place of refuge, comfort and healing for me. I pray that it will offer you the same blessings. This hope comes from a fellow traveler on the journey of life.” ~ Jan. 30^th, 2010.”

The second note was written on lined yellow notepaper.

“Dear Lovely person,

I hope you enjoy this beautiful room (that God) has given you, as I did.

May it bring comfort & peace!

Live in love and laughter.

Sincerely,

A friend & person who wishes you well!”

It is only now as I transcribe these notes that I am fully taking in its message and sentiment. Earlier, I was a bit frazzled to get my things sorted. I needed to make everything perfect. I have the cutest little writing table. It is white with soft curved edges and fancy ornate handles on the drawers. Jocelyn placed a miniature Christmas tree on the desk. It’s probably about two feet high. It is thin with wiry branches decorated with dainty ornaments; burgundy and white Christmas balls and brass bows. A sparkling silver ribbon wrapped up one of my gift bags. I decided to tie it around the base of the trunk on the tree; my own little finishing touch, I expect. There is an armed easy chair patterned a plaid of taupe and grays. A full-length mirror is angled on the floor against the wall. And there are flowers everywhere! They are in the artwork hanging on the walls, stitched into the rug, painted on the base of the lamp and the decorative round hat boxes and even quilted into the patchwork of the bed comforter. I never was a big fan of floral décor, but somehow it all comes together. I know that I am going to great extents to describe a bedroom, but right now it is the only space in this great house that is mine. My favourite piece is the bookcase. Strange, I know, but it has an amazing feature. It’s wedged into a narrow space between the closet and the wall. It has three deep shelves, and two shallower shelves in a cupboard bottom. On the middle shelf, there is an erect solid wooden cross leaning up against the backing. It is probably about 12 inches high. My eye caught glimpse of it the first time I passed through the door. Tonight when I came back to my room, I noticed a plank of raised wood running lengthwise at the back of the top shelf. There is a little pot light that shines down, illuminating the cross. This may seem a little monastic to some, but to me it is perfect! I am going to turn my lamp out to see what it looks like in the dark. Ah…it’s perfect! It’s beautiful! What a warm, peaceful beacon of light to give me hope during my stay here.

And about that anyway! What am I doing here? I am in Waterdown on an apple orchard. This afternoon, I moved into a 2½ storey Queen Anne-styled house that is over 100 years old. The surroundings are gorgeous, the detailing inside the house is exquisite and it has all been professionally decorated for Christmas! It’s wonderful. It is also a transitional home for women in crisis; a place for broken women to come crash, rest, be supported and heal. The reality of everything has not sunk in yet, although I have enough awareness to know that I am in denial about the fact that I need to be here for a short time. Within the first 45 minutes of my arrival, I felt ready to blubber several times but I wouldn’t let myself. I am convinced that part of me has shut down further.

There are two other women living here. A volunteer, named Wendy came in tonight. Five times a week, a volunteer comes in to have dinner with us and keep us company if we need it. I shared a meal with complete strangers (that was prepared by another kind stranger). We all “hung out” afterwards. We watched the CTV news, and then made a pot of tea to watch the “Diary of a Mad Black Woman.” My whole life, I have always hated being dropped in unfamiliar settings and breaking the ice with complete strangers. I hate it to the point of anxiety attacks. Throughout the course of the evening, I felt no reaction. I walked into a preexisting, housing arrangement and did my best to fit in. Peace of God must be a huge part of it, but I can’t help but feel that survival mode just kicked it up a notch. I am here at Drummond House to fall apart, be restored by God’s loving hand, to break bad habits and a negative way of life. I am here to start anew according to God’s will.

I am getting a cold and I should rest. Tonight I tried to slip in unnoticed, invisible, camouflage into the background as though I belonged there (which I don’t feel like I do right now). I am told that it is normal to feel this way right now. We will see what tomorrow brings.