I recently explored an abandoned house.  I've always seen them along the side of the road on roadtrips and imagined capturing an amazing image inside. This time I stopped.  My two sons and I waded through the tall grasses as my husband stood guard at the car.  As I climbed up into the open doorway, behind me my oldest son cried out in pain.  He had stepped on a rusty nail protruding from boards that used to be the porch.  He turned back to the car for first aid treatment.  My younger son and I continued into the house and heard "something" rush out the ruined walls in the back of the house.  We froze.  After a minute or two of silence we continued our investigation.  We creeped around, treading lightly.  My heart was racing and adrenaline pumped through my veins.  Then I remembered what motivated me to stop - photos; I wanted to take pictures.  I snapped a few but suddenly realized I shouldn't be here - I was intruding on something that was being reclaimed - a work in progress.  It was eery and sacred all at once.  We left . . . in search of a medical facility for a vaccine.  I would learn later that I had unknowingly carried a small, blood-sucking parasite out of that place.  Later that night my husband discovered and removed the tick from my shoulder.

I learned a few things from that ruined place:

There is a mysterious beauty in ruin.

Those things I've abandoned (thoughts, relationships, behaviors, habits, ways of thinking) are being reclaimed and turned into something beautiful.

When the promise of excitement tempts me to revisit things I've abandoned I may cause pain to my loved ones and I could leave with things that feed on my very life

When I am open to abandoning my self-made identify, God can begin to reclaim it and in my ruined self, there is beauty as His light is able to fill more of the newly exposed places in my soul.

I'm grateful to a God that teaches me, heals me . . . is reclaiming my ruined soul.