King's Daughter's Kitchen

If I lost my material stuff, I would freak out for a bit. That’s human. Then, I would pray because I pray more when I am afraid. I’m sure God wishes I would connect with Him more often on normal  days.

Next, I’d walk to my neighbor’s house. I’d ask her for a ride to our Women’s Shelter. Once I arrived, I would use their phone to call my family deacon let our people know that I need a bus ticket out of town. As soon as he helps me to get a ticket, I’d go to stay with my sister. She would make space for me, no questions asked.

After I was settled at my sister’s house, I would use the city bus to go to the library. With no phone, I’d need free computers to search for resources. I’d have to find food banks, and Goodwills and Salvation Armys for work, clothing, and home goods. A new church is a must, to act as my faith family and to be my support circle. I’ll have to look for a free counseling center as well, where I’d hope to work through whatever nightmare took away my stuff and my old life without permission. Hopefully, these places would have connections to other places and people who could help me to restart my life.

I wouldn’t care about my stuff. Stuff is stuff. No big deal.

The taking, the jarring absence of what was… without a quick connection to something new, that’s what would bother me most.