Sanctuary.

Most of what I know about Disney movies I learned as a result of my baby sister’s obsession with one at a time.  For 6 months we could only watch Beauty and the Beast for example.  But eventually we broadened her horizons (and thankfully moved out of the Holiday Inn we temporarily had to live in… for 6 months).  One of my favorites to this day is the Hunchback of Notre Dame.  I, of course, read the book.

I promise this post is not about Disney movies.  What it IS about, is the concept of sanctuary.  In the days of the hunchback you could claim sanctuary within church walls and you were untouchable – it was a safe place, always.  Within the walls of a church in those days one could not be arrested (which is how it is used in the book/movie) and you could not be kicked out.

When I dream about what my home will be I want it to be a sanctuary.  A sanctuary is a place of refuge or safety.  When people enter my home that’s what I want them to feel.  I had a great chat with my Mom the other day about the book Love Does and how Bob Goff has created this culture of welcoming people into his home that I’m in love with.  The next week I found myself telling my 5 dinner guests ‘my home is your home from now on – show up whenever you need or like’ and meaning it.

Last week I was thrilled as people came and went all week.  Dinners, desserts, movies, and even one ‘I just need somewhere to go’.  After hosting a roommate for a year I really considered whether or not I was going to explore doing the roommate thing again and I finally concluded I would rather make some sacrifices financially and leave that room open and available.  Not only does this allow my home to feel like MY sanctuary but it gives my friends and family a place to run too when they need to clear their heads.  And the longer I’ve stayed put there and worked at that environment – the more people have come.

Sanctuary Sunday’s began a few weeks ago when after a tough couple of days a friend and I decided to literally weather a storm at my place.  We were due for a tropical storm (it’s that season here) and she came over in her comfy clothes to wait it out together.  We lit candles, grabbed throw blankets, and I made a spread of tacos while we watched Netflix.  Eventually we talked through some of the craziness the week had brought (and I cleaned).

The following week we decided we wanted to do it again.  By the third week, another friend popped in and raided my fridge of leftovers and joined us for a bit, eating and talking about his life.  The following week 2 became 3 and so the tradition continues.  I have made Sundays my day of rest at home (I attend church on Saturday nights – for those of you wondering) and my door revolves on those days for any who need a place to veg and seek sanctuary (or food).

Sundays have become my chance to say no my my usual chaos and busyness. To carve out time to just be available...and I'm wow'd by the results of that simple change of pace.

'I use to want to fix people, now I just want to be with them' - Bob Goff, Loves Does