sacred

Outside the back door of Junktion is a small strip of garden that was inspired by my mother in law. What I mean by ‘inspired’ is that she did most of the work - reinvigorating the soil, selecting the succulents and ground covers, and doing the most of the tending. 

Pixi and I water it once and a while, and creatively place broken bits of brick-a-brack throughout the tiny landscape. A broken saucer here, a faded garden gnome there.

Inside the back door is our sorting area - right next to my office.

Yesterday I’m just inside the back door in conversation with Amy who is dropping some donations with her kids in tow - she asks about church - she and her husband used to go where we were last year, but they’ve moved to a new church plant where there’s lots of young families: ‘we really like the teaching’.

Our conversation is disrupted by another customer stepping through the door: ‘I love the little garden outside - who’s responsible for that? Is it true that a church meets in the other building and not here?’

(She’s referring to the stone chapel where Junktion operates)

‘It’s a pity - this place not being used for something so sacred’.

I respond: ‘we like to think that what happens here IS sacred.’

Amy has to go.

The older lady apologizes for interrupting.

I’m grateful for the opportunity to prompt a re-imagining of what is ‘sacred’.