Not a disaster

I am a disaster.  My apartment is a disaster.  I want to scoop my entire apartment contents into a trash bag and throw it all out and begin again tomorrow.  Instead I have started a blog, with the goal of finding the pretty, creative, positive, and encouraging things of life.  And for the purpose of being accountable to those things.

So.

I am not a disaster.  Madeleine L'Engle explains that dis-aster, at its Latin roots, means "dis" (separation) from the "asters" (stars).  Disaster.  Separation from the stars.  Boom.  I am not separated from the stars (even though, living in a very bright and often very cloudy Midwestern city, I can be deceived).

I remembered that part of what M L'E said on my own (the disaster part...I'm pretty smart).  I didn't remember the rest of her musings:
When we are separated from the stars, the sea, each other, we are in danger of being separated from God.  Sometimes the very walls of our churches separate us from God and each other...We need to remember that the house of God is not limited to a building that we usually visit for only a few hours on Sunday.  The house of God is not a safe place.  It is a cross where time and eternity meet, and where we are--or should be--challenged to live more vulnerably, more interdependently.

Did she just imply that the opposite of disaster is vulnerability?
OOoooOOOo