Altar to Brokenness

This morning I purchased a couple of jackets from an online used clothing website, and as is my custom as I continue to downsize, I took two jackets and two sweatshirts to my nearby charity/thrift store. As I dropped off my clothes, I spied this altar in the back of the receiving room (formerly a garage). I asked the young man in charge, and he said they started building the altar two years ago, using broken objects donated but not good enough to put into the shop. 

I am entranced. I think all of us have altars to brokenness in our hearts, our houses, our cultures. I stood for a long time enjoying it, and I have loved gazing at the juxtapositions in the photos. The fellow who was minding the receiving room is also a photographer. We exchanged IG handles. It was a surprising moment of connection and mutual encouragement, one of the things I love about being alive. 

On my way walking home from this errand, I got a loving text from Margie: “It just dawned on me that I have not told you how much I love that dog!!!!  He is at my fingertips day and night. I love him I love him!!! He is always in a position of access and his expression is so welcoming. I love him. I can’t say it enough times!!!”