Ebenezer
Such a case could not have been better made than when we entered Ebenezer, for in no way could we have been prepared for what we experienced. It was shock and awe. Except for the stone floor, every inch of the walls and ceiling were covered in tightly stretched barbed wire – the wire we so often associate with the enclosure of the Great Plains in America and lands within the United Kingdom, or internment camps around the world.
Immediately, we felt caged, trapped, fearful of being caught by the barbs that snag the wool of passing sheep or the clothes of residents, or cut the hides of cattle and people, leaving scars in skin and mind. In other buildings, there had been a window or two; but not here. Had there not been a door we would have trapped to a way of life, with no way out, no future.
It was a room full of foreboding and dread, harboring the physical and psychic difficulties aligned with life: feeding family, raising children, confronting illness until death came and the spirit allowed escape like smoke between the wire to a better place. Was this how the people living here felt, still feel? It was a room within which we wanted to remove ourselves, quickly.
Job’s Well
Leaving Ebenezer sheets of rain started coming in downpours as we started out of the cultivated valley and entered the moors, as though our sins were being washed away. And
though through rain and a deep mist moved up
the valley and over the moors, we could see in
the far distance the outline of another house, Job’s Well. There, moving within that mist towards shelter, a mystical presence was felt as a sign of hope against what we had experienced and were experiencing – and not just because it was the halfway point.
And the house did not disappoint. It was a shelter. No, it was more than that: it was spirituality defined. Before us, in the first room was a table and benches where visitors could share words and a meal before the hearth and where they could sit looking through gothic windows at the sky above and valley below. Both reminded us of the things that connect us, connect people with place and nature.
The second room was an inner sanctum which held a stone set before an oval behind which light shown forth brightly. There one could give thanks for the meal just shared, pray for the health and happiness of friends and family, and not only think through the experiences of life lived but dream of hopes and aspirations for a life still evolving. It was a true counterpoint to the previous house, and a reminder more lessons were forthcoming.
Left:
The Barbed Wire Interior
of Ebenezer
Right:
Job's Well
Sitting High Above the Moor in Mist
Following Pages:
Inner Rooms Job's Well
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