There is a healing that prevails….


So many moments happen on the floor for me.  

Let me explain. I have a quilt top that I purchased at the five day market when I first arrived here in Korea nearly two years ago. It is beautiful and I loved it so much that I placed it on the floor as a sort of rug rather than on my bed.

The rug has almost become a place of refuge with me many time.  Myself and guests alike come into to my home and gravitate toward it. I love just laying on it after a long day and talking with someone. I’ve prayed on that rug there, prostrated and poured out my heart to both God and trusted friends. I’ve fallen asleep watching movies, or enjoyed evenings watching Downton Abbey. I’ve had Bible studies with women sitting cross-legged with their Bibles open and book club meetings with a glass of wine discussing our latest novel. Children like playing on it — whether my friend’s 1 year old playing pots and pans older children playing Minecraft on my iPad.

When I was in the hospital last year because of my wrist and all those complications, there was a room with me, eight other people in hospital beds and about 25 people sleeping on the floor. People who had committed to taking care of their loved ones who were sick and needed someone to do things for them. Food, medicine, changing bed sheets, even going to the bathroom and back. There is no nursing care. It was a labour of love, true love and friendship. Many people came to visit me and bring me things I needed. There were also those who slept on the floor for me. Every night I was there, besides the first night (and Leslie Facetimed with me so I wasn’t alone that night either) someone was there. Amber and Melanie both slept more than one night. Wendy and Stephanie came too. Cathy and Jerri came faithfully, so did Lisa and Byron and I can’t even begin to name everyone. So many people came to just sit on that floor in that crazy million degrees hot room to be with me. But laying on the floor and “sleeping”  through the night meant a lot.  I was in the most pain and the most confused/not feeling well at night. I couldn’t intervene on my behalf. Language barriers were the least of my worries at that point.

And I’m a lower-elementary teacher, so the floor is where I conduct the majority of my time at work as well. Independent work stations, small reading groups, Smart-board lessons, you name it. I like grading work and making the floor command centre for “paper passing out” time — yes, we’re constantly on our rugs, in our beanbags on the floor at school.  The floor is not an odd place to conduct yourself in many cultures, but it might be somewhat silly to those not familiar with that way of life to say it’s one of my favourite places.

When a place becomes familiar and comfortable you can sometimes take it for granted. I was with one of my close friends on Monday night and after supper and board games, the kids were in bed and we were on her floor with our computers listening to music and talking.  We had just spent prayer time together there on that floor, all five of us lifting up our hearts to God just moments before and He met us in a real way that I often take for granted. Those moments of calm peaceful assurance that just pass me by. Why? Maybe it’s because they are so natural and integrated into every day but I miss it. The busyness creeps in, often taking away what a truly special thing it is to have community. The majesty of it and the presence of the Holy Spirit fell as she played a song for me by Sara Groves. ( I posted it in the post before this one. ) That Sara Groves song reminded me of another song that my friend Amanda gave me several years back, “He’s Always Been Faithful.” And He has. Even when I haven’t, not consciously, but just by life becoming comfortable and familiar. 

There on the floor was a moment that meant more to me than anything could right now.  I realised why the floor was so powerful. It was simply about presence, and about being there. No words were needed. Nothing needed to be wrong or right with the world, the in-between grey was okay. A strange little bit of my heart that wasn’t hurting at the time and I didn’t even know needed healing was healed in that moment. A little peace of home was permanently etched onto my soul. That this past two years and next two years are just where I am meant to be.

 “Love washes over a multitude of things…. “

About CRIL

Here I am in an attempt to find healing, hope, truth, pain, beauty... here I stand with my arms open wide... I'm not settling for what I am... instead I am searching for what I am meant to become when all that is reflected through me is Him and His Glory... I am confident that the path He has set before me is both sorrow *and* joy... it is not up to me to determine which is which... (written by me when I was an undergrad... still true today)

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