My Altar
I can still remember placing the first stone. It was just an ordinary hill, on an ordinary road, in an ordinary life. And then suddenly, it wasn't ordinary anymore. One rock, it's cold, sharp edges mimicking the condition of my heart, placed on the hill alone. So small, so insignificant, and yet, I could feel the beginning of something bigger than I could imagine hovering in the air around me. With one stone, I marked the moment where simple met extraordinary, tumult met peace, chaos met order. I wanted to remember what it felt to be drowning and suddenly feel the hand of grace gripping me, pulling me from my own tragedy. With one stone, I began my altar. It would become my place of worship. I'd come there to remember you, to think about what we have been through together. Sometimes I could only leave pebbles--small victories and hurdles leapt. Other times, I didn't feel strong enough to lay the boulder that I felt an event deserved. But my altar steadily
