As in all of our lives, my life has been marked by certain events that changed me. They're not always the most dramatic moments, or the happiest, or the saddest. Sometimes, it's the culmination of a bunch of little ones that add up to something significant. To a single moment, where all of them come together. And believe it or not, I am incredibly sentimental, and hold tightly to these memories. To those people. Some, I get to keep in my life; others were for a single season, never to be heard from again.
But tonight, it is not the people who fill my mind, but the places. The places that because of singular moments, have become, in their own way, holy to me. Sacred. In the Old Testament, when people had great moments of revelation of God, they would build altars and name the place to remember, and have their children remember, and generations remember, what had happened there. That's what these places are to me. They are altars, that every time I visit, I am reminded.
Room 202 in my old high school. I went there today, to visit my favorite teacher of all time. She and I got to catch up, and it was lovely. I even sat through one of her classes. That woman taught me how to think. Okay, she taught me how to think critically on my feet. It was there, in that room, that I discovered an enduring love of logic, and for the first time in a long time, found a place where I belonged. After we talked, I left for a little bit, to visit other teachers that I remember fondly, and when I came back to say goodbye to her, the room was empty. And it was striking. It still had the same feel, the same exact smell of paper and copy ink and dust and old stage make up and dry erase markers. It was still, the way it used to be at 5am before we left for debate tournaments. It was incredibly comforting. So many places change with time, and become something far different than you remember them. But this one, for now at least, remains completely unchanged. Untouched by time. It is one of my altars.
Another is the bottom of the steps to my apartment. I cannot tell you how many times I have sat on those steps and had deep, intimate God talks with friends. An entire summer was filled of nights with those steps. Though no longer every time I walk on them, every time the air is right, the temperature is warm, the stars are out, and the city is quiet (which is more often than you'd think) I am again brought back to that time and worship. It is one of my altars.
There is a bridge, close to the home in which I grew up. It is on gravel, the lowest bridge in the county. It's in the middle of nowhere, literally fifteen minutes from the closest small town. It goes over the interstate. Which is awesome because during a break in traffic, if you look up, you can see every star in the sky. You can see the milky way with your naked eye. And when the semi trucks rush underneath, less than 18 inches from your feet, you cannot help the slight surge of adrenaline. Especially if you look down. I love going here, and have shared this particular altar with a great many friends. It's beautiful. It's one of the most beautiful places on earth, second only in my heart to my most sacred altar, Chapel By The Lake.
These are only some. There is a summer camp in Florida, in particular a single room of a single building, which will always be near and dear to me. There is a porch on a dilapidated house in the center of this town. There is a single home on a lake in Arkansas. There is a room in a building called POOR house in West Palm Beach. There is a park in a small town in northeast Iowa.
These places serve as a witness and a reminder: to never forget what happened here. To never forget that I was changed. To never forget the events, people, and moments that changed me. Throughout my life, I hope to have a great many more altars made, because I never want to stop learning and growing. There is seemingly an infinite amount of room in my heart for altars, so let them come. Let me be changed, let me learn, let me be forever moved closer and closer to the heart of my God. And let me never forget a single one of them.
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