Human greatness

Today was the last of this year's EfM exercises. We met at the Bishop Jones Center here in San Antonio for a day of contemplation, prayer and good byes. It was bitter sweet for the group for four members graduated this year and, for me, it is the mark of leaving EfM for an uncertain time. It is not only saying good bye to the group and the course for me, but possibly turning by back on a path that I might have taken. A path that my heart still longs to follow. Of course, for ever destination there are any number of paths, so I know that one day I will reach the end of this spiritual journey and the starting of another. Time, only, will tell what that jumping off point will be. But what ever it is, I pray that it is planted in firm ground with rich soil.

The first part of today's retreat involved walking the grounds in silent prayer and meditation. At each point of rest, there were passages from the Bible placed there for us to contemplate. For some stops I journaled and for others I merely sat in quiet joy surrounded by cool grass, fresh breezes, the scent of flowers and the lilt of bird song. It is an easy place to touch spirituality- our very own thin place in the heart of San Antonio. At some points you can hear the rushing waters from the spring that forms the headwaters of the San Antonio river. For a girl raised in the deserts of West Texas dancing waters have always held a special fascination and thankfulness. There are many things that came up today which I will probably spend the next few weeks fleshing out and recording for my devoted audience of one (have I mentioned today how much I love you?). But the following passage has, I think, been rolling around in my head for a long time now and I think its time I set it free. To provide a setting, it was the second stop in my spiritual walk: the small chapel of the Center. It, like the house, is decorated in Spanish colonial splendor- white washed walls; dark and rich wood; a classic simplicity of line and space. It was there I knelt at the alter rail and contemplated my life. Here is what appeared in my journal afterwards.


As I knelt before the alter I gave thanks- something I do not do nearly enough. I praised and thanked God for me. I think him for being perfectly imperfect and worthy in my unworthiness. For sometimes, somehow, I think it is our flaws, our weaknesses that make us great. Not even that we overcome our weaknesses to achieve greatness, but that our weaknesses are our greatness, that they define us. Not in a sense of negativity- but in a sense of freedom. My flows are what makes me- anyone can be a good nurse, any one can cook as well as I do, any one can be as good of an artist. But my inability to be straight forward, my constant shifting of all things to an oblique angle- that is what defines my art, my love, my sense of humor. For each great person we admire, we admire them for their flaws. If Julia Child had not been so delightfully and naturally shallow- interested more in the sensuality of the world then the intellectual, would she have been a great chef? If Patton had not been such a rigid bastard, would have then the great general? If I were me without my flaws, would I be me at all? In the end, if I were to remove all my flaws and be only my strengths I would be no one in particular. It is our flaws that define us. It is our weaknesses that make us great.

Psalm 71 16-34

An exercise from In Dialog with Scriptures. As one of the last exercises in EfM we were required to read Psalm 71 in the following manner.
1. Read it out loud as a group
2. Answer: What speaks to me?
3. Read silently on your own
4. Answer: What are the authors tensions or concerns addressed in the Psalm, what are my tensions and concerns addressed by the Psalm.
5. Read aloud
6. Answer: What insights have I gained? What have I learned or relearned about God? About myself? What is the Psalm calling me to do? Can I? Will I?
7. Read aloud entire Psalm as a prayer

I find myself wishing to record the answers because I think that what I scratched up from the depths is something I will need to be able to return to. We all have mental, spiritual and physical places that we must, periodically, return to in the effort to touch base with ourselves. I think that this might be one such spot.

2. I often feel like my life is full of adversity, that I take two steps back for every one step forward, though I know this not to be true because I can see m path behind me when I turn. Perhaps this feeling of working against the grain comes from being risen up, for the act of climbing is more exhausting the that of walking the flat path and your is often obscured by the narrowness of the path and the height of the trees. I may toil, but I do make progress though the price is dear. But always the summit is worth the effort. Perhaps you are the places in the path where my progress is clear, the points in my travel where I can see for miles and know the joy of being surrounded by and one with something so much greater then myself. You are the pauses and the clear view that puts my journey in perspective.

4. The writer is concerned about being forsaken when aged- of not having a purpose of reason. I often fear a meaningless life. I fear a life in which no one can say my being here or my passing affected anyone. Even more then family and love I have and do crave meaning. But more then just having a life where people think well of me- but having a life which people can look back and say because of her a thing was created or discreated. I have always felt a sense of great purpose to my life and fear that it is nothing more then vanity on my part. That this is the course of my life and the extent of my effect upon the world. I fear being useless. I fear impotence. And I fear the vanity that is inherent in that very fear. That my ego will answer the call of the Devil from my greatest strengths, my most sacred compulsions. That I seek my duties not for God nor for my fellow man, but for myself.

6. I have been recalled to the knowledge that Gos is with me, through my hardships and doubts, Gos is with me. He holds me in the palm of his hand and he is the quiet space of my soul that knows the rightness and wrongness of my actions and desires. I have learned that the snake in the grass is myself- my need for greatness and a life less ordinary. I have learned that the arrow that pierces my Achilles heel is also myself- my ego which seeks to glorify God for the sale of myself.
Deeds done well for the wrong reason are still ill deeds, for they bear the fruit of the soil they are planted in. If I am to bear good fruit, then I must tend the soil that nourishes it. My ego is like salt in the soil, withering the fruit- preventing its seeds from sprouting. I am the gardener of my soul and I have been lax. It is time to resume my charge.

Long Time...

Well, its been a long time since I have felt the need to put finger to key, as it were. Life has been going very well of late. I am seeing a wonderful man and am starting to slide into that comfortable rythm of a new relationship. Of course, this is made easier by the fact that he is half way across the world and stationed in Afghanistan. But he will be returning home in a few months.

But I am left to move alone. Thankfully I have completed nursing school, though at times I have doubted myself more then I like to admit. But having him there, even if by over the phone, telling me that I could do that he was proud and believed in me. Well, that was just the push I needed to get through that last semester filled with stress and apathy.

I consider myself very, very fortunate. Not just to have met him, but also because I have so many blessings. Its funny how often we forget just how blessed we are. I have been given so much in this life. But then I forget that, and I start looking with envy at the lives of others. And I am ashamed of myself when I realize it. Ashamed and saddened. So, I have begun to pray about my blessings. Counting them every night- I am well, my family is healthy, my 86 year old grandmother is recovering well from a severe shoulder injury and has even started to drive again, I am in love and I am loved, my dogs are all healthy, I have a home, I have a job, my brother is returning from Afghanistan soon and he and his family are all healthy, my car has yet to break down, my knee is healing well from dislocating it playing tennis, my friend Jenny is getting married to the love of her life and my best friends have just bought a new house.

So many blessings. So many things that are so wonderful. And yet I can become blind to them. We weren't placed on this earth to desire that which we do not or cannot have, but to celebrate the life that we are given. To want and love what we do have.

Perhaps that is the best that we can wish for eachother- to pray that we all want and love what we do have in our lives.

Project Graduation!

Well, it's (semi) official! I just heard from my clinical instructor and I passed my acute care final. I am officially graduating!

I cannot BEGIN to express the relief I am feeling now. I am so very excited. I have been wanting to put off all the things I need to do to graduate as I was actually afraid that I wouldn't make it. Now I can feel free to send out the announcements and to look for a place to live in Abilene.

In a little while all that I need to get done will start crashing down on me- but for now, I am just happy that I can continue on with the rest of my life.

Easter Sunday

It has been a quiet Easter for the most part. I woke up early, but not early enough to catch the BF online. He had come and gone just a few minutes before I logged on. Which is always pretty painful. I don't know how much chance we'll have to talk once he gets to his true deployment area so I tend to be a bit over protective about my chances to talk to him now. But I am hopeful that I'll catch him online tonight.

I made it to Easter Mass in time to be the second banner bearer for the 1030 mass. I enjoy being an acolyte for the more part, however there are times like this morning which I would prefer to be able to just sit in the pews and enjoy our services. But, I enjoyed it anyway. And being a part of stripping the alter on Maundy Thursday was worth not being able to see the ceremony in its full glory. After Easter Mass was our traditional champagne social and the blessing of the garden.

I managed to finish shaving the dog today. It only took three weekends to get through the fluff. So, no more Princess Fluffy Britches. She is scraggly looking, but at least she's short haired again. I swear, no more high maintenance fur dogs. Of course, the next dog is probably going to be a greyhound. Short fur, quiet dogs are best, I think.

All day long I have been fighting off the blahs. Basically, I just really miss my boyfriend today. I think its mainly because of Easter. Easter is generally my favorite holiday of the year. I usually decorate, cook a huge meal, make Easter baskets for my friends, get an Easter tree up- basically just go all out. And this year, not only am I not with the man I love- I am also broke due to being in my final year of nursing school. So, the combination hasn't been great. I have tried to keep myself busy and distracted, which has worked to an extent. But every time I quiet down long enough to sit, its back. I just miss him. And I wish he were here. And there isn't anything I can do about it all the whinging, worrying or dwelling on it in the world can't make that change. So, I am just getting buy as best I can. Which isn't that poorly when it comes down to it.


Happy Easter.

....And he's gone

Well, he left for the Middle East yesterday. He called right before stepping onto the plane and leaving me for almost seven months. Since it was Wednesday, I was in the middle of my community health clinic. I managed to put off the emotional fallout of having a boyfriend deploy because I needed to concentrate on school- however now that the clinical is over and the test today is over and done with all I can really think about is him. He's gone for almost seven months.

Not that I don't have a lot to do-
I need to finish my course work (two papers and four projects), get graduated, take the KAPLAN course, pass the NCLEX (which is going to cost me another two hundred dollars to take) and move to Abilene. Yep. Abilene. The song may state that its the "prettiest town that I've ever seen", by which I can only assume that the writer of said ballad was, in fact, blind. But he's there and there's that. I would probably get more money staying here, but there isn't much to be done about it at the moment.

So, tomorrow I start my workouts again. I no longer have hugely pressing projects and I am starting to feel a bit better. So it is definitely time for me to grace the inside of my gym again. Perhaps working out tomorrow morning will help my allergies and keep me awake for the four hour acute class tomorrow from 0800 to 1200. What were they thinking having a four hour class? No one pays attention to anything for four hours! They don't even make movies four hours long because by the end everyone is just hoping that the characters meet an unexpected accident or alien abduction because their butts are numb from the theater seats!

I am looking forward to having the end of my nursing school in sight. Its been a long haul for me- emotionally, physically and mentally. I am so glad that I have gone through it, but I don't know that anyone could pay me to go through it again. I am sick to death of nursing instructors and am slightly afraid that all nurses will be as insane and unreasonable as they are- though I suspect that this will not hold true. Or perhaps I just hope that this will not hold true. Otherwise the only logical explanation is that they put crack in the coffee at the hospital. But so far my clinicals have gone well and I have enjoyed working with many of the nurses on staff. So I am hoping that I will continue this trend.

Here and Gone Again

Well, Valentine's day has come and gone- and has had my boyfriend. We managed to sneak in one last weekend together before he deploys around the first of next month. Three whole days spent together and in the company of respective families. Ok, to be fair I could have done without the family part. But I couldn't find it in me to protest it. After all, I am not the only one he is leaving behind. And it gave me a chance to meet his mother and some of his extended family, so that was all for the good.

I had briefly considered making up some non-life threatening but plausible illness to prevent him from meeting my side of the family, but in the end I decided that it was best to throw him to the wolves now rather then let him get too invested before hand. So, to Grandmother's house we went. Fortunately my aunt was on her best behavior- she too apparently assuming that it is much to early in the relationship to find out the true nature of the insanity that is our family. She was polite, she whipped out all the family photos and had detailed explanations for each one- just in case he was interested in meeting any of the family that is unfortunate enough to still reside in Kansas and he might get a wild hare up his butt to go looking for my family in Kansas. You know, because corn fields and farmers are definitely worth the trip.

G. leaves in just a few days. I won't be able to see him again until sometime in fall- no one knows exactly when. All I can hope and pray is that he will return to me well in body and spirit. I pray that the time goes by quickly and smoothly for all concerned. And I pray that I am strong enough to be here for him, waiting for his return.

Love

Valentine's Day is looming near, rearing it's ugly head to the fear and consternation of lovers everywhere. The one day in which affection becomes obligatory, no longer a joy freely given. But it leaves one wondering, or at least this one wondering, what is the nature of love?
It has always been my personal belief that love is something we grow into you. That blinding lights to the brain, odd revelations in the middle of the night- music, fairy dust and all that rot- were abstract works of fiction created to inspire the parting of money and pocket. That love, true and abiding love, was an animal of an entirely different nature. It was slow, solid and deliberate. Basically the mule of the emotional world- steady and plodding, but gets the job done without too much fan fair. That often, under the flash and attraction of first love there lay the mule ready to take over where the race horse left off, if one may excuse the extended equine analogy.
Perhaps things are not so simple. Love is something else entirely, or rather- it is entirely neither but shares the characteristics of both. Love is the quick flash- the burning light to the brain. It is waking up in the middle of the night with the sudden realization- I am in love. It is the feeling of innate rightness, deep in the soul that who and what you are is meant to be with another. But it is also that slow deliberate plodding creature. It is choosing to spend time watching a football game when you would rather be reading. It is leaving the last cookie in the bag for someone else. It is sitting quiet with someone without a word to say and being content in the silence.
Perhaps in the end, love is knowing that you would rather run the uncertain risk of entering into a relationship with someone then to never know what might have been.

And off he goes.....

Well, dear BF is off to training in lovely and scenic Manhattan, Kansas. When he called last night, he was complaining about the weather- apparently it was in the teens/low twenties which is quite a big jump from lows in the fifties here in Texas. Adding further to his frustration is the fact that the military, in all it's wisdom, designed a schedule in which they were rushed up from Texas only to have a day off today, in-processing tomorrow and Thursday through Monday off. Basically, those days which he could have spent with me or his daughter are completely wasted. Typical military. He's completely frustrated and will start looking to transfer to a special assignment for the last of his military career. Selfishly, I would love to have him set in recruiting for the next three years until retirement.

I have been wondering if our relationship hasn't outpaced itself a bit. A lot of the problem is that he wanted things more settled and certain before he left. Which I could understand, what's the use of pinning your hopes on someone who may or may not be there in eight months when you return. Its a pretty common story in the military- boy meets girl. Boy gets deployed. Boy returns to find girl with other boy in bed. Sometimes people have returned to full divorce petitions. Every one I know who has deployed has that in the back of their minds when they leave a loved one. So I really do understand why things progressed so quickly.

Its going to take quite a bit for me to shift him out of my focus for the next few months. I have to graduate and I can't let anything distract me too much. Fortunately the worst is over with last semester and I am looking forward to many of my courses this semester. I have added a second job at the hospital- its an extern position which will help me learn the ropes there and gain the skills I will need as a nurse. I feel I have a good grasp of why things are done and what to look for in patients, but the actual skills are a bit weak due to a lack of opportunities to practice. Unfortunately, you can't just start an IV on someone because you want the practice. Something silly about ethics. Whatever. Pfft.

Holiday Happenings

Well, spent Christmas with the parents. I drove back to Midland with the mutts in tow on the Saturday before Christmas (having neatly planned being only able to stay with them for five days). It was a nice trip though. My mother and I didn't have enough time to start any fights, what with the holiday preparations and what not. The only major contention was my oldest dog, Lilith. I had allowed my parents to keep her after I managed to get a house with a large backyard because they were convinced that my other small dogs would drive her crazy. However this holiday I couldn't stand watching my mother feed a now obese ten year old dog cheesy-beefy rice. So, Lilith has returned home with me. And it was a great decision, for her at least. She's on a good diet now and I have taken her to the dog park a number of times. She trots around the park trying to break up the fights between other dogs and once Pongo has annoyed another dog beyond all measure, Pongo hides under her belly for protection.

The dog park is an interesting phenomenon. All the "how to net and pen a suitable dating partner" books and articles always mention dog parks as a great place to meet people. I can only assume that this is because they have never actually been to one. For those of you who have not, its a culture unto itself. People stand around watching their dogs telling each other elaborate (and mostly made up) stories about how wonderful their dogs are with the occasional interjection of "Molly, stop that! No!" and "Oh, she never does that at home....". No one introduces themselves. We introduce the dogs. I am now officially "Lilith's, Pongo's and Beaudroux's Mom". I mean, I always wanted a title, right? We spend time tickling other people's dogs, throwing balls for them, laughing with them and sitting with a huge pile of dogs around us. But we barely look at the other humans around us. Because the dog park is literally, for the dogs. So, by all means- take your dog to the dog park. They will never be happier then running around and interacting with all the other crazy mutts. But don't expect too much on the human side of things, for at the dog park the dogs definitely rule.

And in other news, the man I am dating is about to be sent off for training. He deploys to Afghanistan in March. We just started dating, so who knows what so many months separated will do. My timing has always been a bitch.

We'll Keep the Light On For You

The Internet was awash in forwarded emails and blog postings of the news about the secession of the Diocese of San Joachin from the Episcopal Church. The Bible study couldn't start until we had discussed it. Will other dioceses follow? What will it mean to us? Will there even be an Episcopal Church in that part of California?

Of course there will. If the leadership of San Joachin doesn't want to be an Episcopal diocese any more, someone else will do that. If they are successful in taking all their property with them, as they hope to be, new Episcopal churches will be planted and will grow in other locations. It will be an exciting time and place to be a young priest, I think: to be part of that missionary response, making common cause with those who treasure the comprehensiveness, diversity and respect for conscience most of us have come to consider one of Anglicanism's great gifts.

Maybe it's time for this to happen. It cannot have been to anyone's soul's health to be primarily identifiable by being against things for so many years. There needs to be more to faith than what one opposes. The glamour of seeing oneself as part of a faithful remnant is both seductive and addictive -- will these dioceses, who have nursed their grievances for so long, even know who they are if they are no longer aggrieved? I hope they do, and that now, free from the onerous burden of their association with us, they can turn their energies to better things.

For it must be true that they, like the rest of us, take seriously the duty we all have to care for those in need. I hope they turn to that work as soon as possible, that they -- and we -- don't choose to squander time, energy and huge amounts of money in protracted fights over buildings and bank accounts. All of us need to ask ourselves if those things are more important than getting free of the malignant tumor of factionalism that has developed its own blood supply and sucked way too much energy from the body of Christ, energy urgently needed by a world that longs for the love of God and doesn't even know it.

And one thing more: this moment in history will come to an end. The time may come when we are one again. We need to welcome that moment with an open heart. Let's keep the door open and leave the porch light on.

Copyright © 2007 Barbara Crafton
Found here: The Geranium Farm

Commentary:
A friend and I were talking after EfM last night about this very issue. In any diocese that leaves, indeed, in any church that leaves TEC, there is and will always be those few individuals who do not wish to leave. I find myself appalled at the lack of support for the very real emotional and spiritual crises in which they find themselves. What is being done as a church body to succor and help them? For I see nothing and I hear very few express concern. I suppose I am highly irritated at our Presiding Bishop for getting so caught up in the legality of the issues that it seems she forgot that churches are not buildings. Churches are not places, or revenue or grants. Churches are people. And there are people who are being set aside at the moment for what I know is a very difficult litigation. However, and this is a big however, to ignore members of our own church body for reasons of connivance is to not act as the leader and spiritual guide for all members of the church body. And shame on our PB for forgetting that.

For Your Consideration (2)

MP's constant posting of truly heinous singers has led me to search for something more easy on the ears-

Ollabelle's High on a Mountain

Christmas Driving

Right, I went to the financial aide office and got a prepayment on next semester's loan so I decided to splurge on some frivolities today and went to the grocery store. Coming back from the store with my haul of tinned tomatoes, pasta, pears, oatmeal and Tofutti Cuties I realized something. Everyone driving since Thanksgiving had suddenly gone insane.

So, apparently unbeknownst to myself, the season's Creed is actually "peace on earth, goodwill towards man and cut off as many people as possible while making up your own lane." Seriously, what is it about Christmas that turns everyone on the road into a moronic poo head? I was almost hit twice on the way home and I live maybe five miles from Sun Harvest.

And what's worse is at least ONE of the cars in question had a "What Would Jesus Do?" sticker. I am not exactly sure about the actions of our Lord and Savior, however I am pretty sure that Jesus would have used his turn signals.

Which leads me to another thought. Once while in Sunday school we were talking about how we felt about people who advertise their Christianity. I find slapping the Christian symbols up on billboards, business cards and anything nailed down pretty off putting. I tend to find myself drawing back from people who proclaim their Christianity too loudly. Which is disconcerting really. Why do I feel such animosity towards others who share my faith? And thinking back on it, I can directly point to those drivers.

These are people who obviously find Christ important enough to advertise themselves as his followers. These are people who, supposedly, follow his teachings and want others to know that they are following his teachings. These are people who want to show others Christian love, empathy and charity. And apparently they find the best way to do so is to cut off other's while hurtling down residential streets at fifty. These are my fellow Christians? These are the people I am suppose to relate to spiritually?

Is there any wonder that people hate, fear or misunderstand Christians? We proclaim ourselves loudly, we proclaim our values loudly, we proclaim our faith loudly- but when the time for talking is over, our actions speak different messages. So often we see the face of faith that is, frankly, unbecoming more then that- stomach churning. We are as steeped in hypocrisy as we are in tradition.

I am tired of Christians talking the talk without walking the walk. Words are easy, it is actions that proclaim our beliefs. If you speak of Christian love and then deny other's into the House of the Lord, do you practice Christian love? If you speak of forgiveness and hold grudges, are you really forgiving? If you speak of charity and do nothing to help your fellow man, are you really charitable? I say no. Christianity is more then a mantle we can put on or take off when convenient. It is more then words. It is our actions. Christianity is the sum of the decisions we make every day. It is the result, not the intentions. Not the plan.

So, when next you get into your huge SUV- contemplate your What Would Jesus Do? sticker. Ask yourself, would Jesus put himself so above the needs of others that he would not even notice other drivers? Would he be so concerned about shopping, chores or errands that he would never see the homeless on the side of the street? Would he consider himself the important actor and all others merely scenery on the stage of life?

Or would he know that people are watching his actions, for the speak so much louder then a few words quickly said and even more quickly forgotten?

How Misanthropic Are You?

You Are 20% Misanthropic

You're definitely not misanthropic - in fact, you're probably a people person. While you may get annoyed with the world from time to time, you remember that everyone's only human!

How Misanthropic Are You?

Huh, so I am people person. Well, I guess I knew that.

For Your Consideration

I was dragged to the Tori Amos concert by my roommate on Monday night. I spent three hours in an uncomfortable chair which was obviously not designed for a woman who happens to be 5'10 and listened to a woman sing songs to which no one could understand the words. But the upshot is, I discovered a great new artist- Yoav. And so, without further ado.....

Beautiful Lie

With Thanks....

I wanted to extend a thanks to MadPriest- the testament to how madness can sometimes be so right.
Mad Priest
In a comment I mentioned that my brother is about to return to the Middle East for the fourth time. An assignment which our family finds a difficult burden, but one which I at least carry with pride and love. He was kind enough to ask for prayers for his safe return, something I do every day.

His kindness is greatly appreciated and timely given.

O Tanenbaum

Its begining to smell a lot like Christmas.....

Ah, my second favorite holiday! (Its just slightly behind Easter.) My roommate, Eric, and myself went out late last night and bought a live (if it is cut, is it really still alive? great, now I have tree guilt) tree, wreath and pine garland. It was wonderful waking up to the scent of fir and pine. We just need a bit of holly and off we go. So far the tree only has my ornaments on it- well, what are left of them anyway. When I moved this summer someone actually stole my Christmas ornaments leaving only the bell I bought in Chinle, Arizona. They weren't valuable, but there were two from the church I had been baptized in- one which I vaguely worry about my reception in this coming Christmas service as I have decided to stay in Communion while they are leaving and, to top it all off, I have openly committed the heresy of joining an inclusive church in San Antonio. Well, if I am not welcome at Holy Trinity there is always St. Nicolas.

But I digress! Our house is shaping into a wonderful holiday confection, it smells green and happy and we got to break into our first day of the Advent Calender- a new experience that I provided for my mostly Scottish roommate. How she existed without German advent calenders and their wonderful bits of chocolaty goodness, I'll never know!

End of third semester

The last few weeks have been hectic, though good. Better perhaps then I even realized when I was in the mist of the days. As it turns out, management clinical has been going very well. I feel like a nurse, finally. I finally feel like I have chosen well, that I will appreciate my new vocation. And yes, it is a vocation. I give so much of myself, can it be anything else? Anything less? Being a nurse is more then a job, its a calling. And not an easy one at that. At the end of the day I am as drained as emotionally as I am physically. My heart aches as much as my feet. I have always been a receptacle for others, an easy place for them to lay their burdens. But being in the hospital has fine tuned this gift. Or curse. I am, now more then ever, the safe place. Its hard, but good. It needs to be done- the patients are so much more then just illness and injury.
And so, my third semester of nursing school is drawing to a close and I must start looking forward. I am suddenly asking myself, what do I want to do with this? My mental health instructor wants me to go into mental health nursing and my pediatric nursing instructor recommends that. I feel pulled in both directions. I know I have the capacity to do either, and do them well enough. But the question remains, what do I want to do? I know I am not alone in this query. I have turned to several of my friends with "What next?" and generally receive the same answer I have, "I don't know." We have all been so caught up in getting to the end that now that the end is in sight not one of us is sure about what we will do next. So I plan on taking this Christmas break to update my resume, start the outline for a cover letter and look around to see what I might possibly wish to do with the rest of my life.
To add to that, several members of our church are anxiously awaiting the decision of our bishop regarding the diaconate in the Diocese of West Texas. The meeting is in February to present the findings of the committee and hopefully we will know something in a month or two. From my understanding, the new bishop is very much willing to start a diaconate here, though there are several details to hash out. But there is always the chance that it will be rejected. Which will leave me in a bit of a quandary. I know that what I view as my ministry- creating a health clinic out of St. Paul's will not be affected but it will mean I will have to rethink what I feel is my calling. So, I am learning patience (a much needed virtue of which I have little) and acceptance.

The Slow Journey

Yet another mopey entry. I have been in an entirely too contemplative mood for the last few days, I suppose finals have a way of doing that to a person. I do wish they were kinder to my mind and body.

Lately I feel like I can't shut my mind down. That all the burdens I have placed upon myself and all the fears, desires, duties and yearnings for freedom have weighted down my soul beyond all capacity. Like an overburdened and exhausted horse, my soul struggles to regain its feet. Time and time again, it heaves and throws all its dwindling strength into the desire to stand firm again, only to settle weakly back to the ground. I have not been a good owner to my soul. I have worked it beyond it's capacity. I have driven it beyond its limits and I have loaded it down to the point of folding. And yet, still I ask it for more. I stand above it and plead, then yell, then rain abuse onto it's sad body. If only I would stand back, if only I could give it time to recover- to remove some the load, to unharness the cart. But I too am trapped. I fear too much to allow it the rest it needs so much. If I fail, I loose so much. I feel balanced between these cliffs- to loose my soul or to loose my way.

And so, I plead- I tell it "only a little more" I say, "look, there is the end!" And like a good horse, it struggles slowly to its feet and we plod on, side by side. One day, I know, I must pasture my friend, my loyal companion, my soul. I must give it good food, a pasture, a warm blanket. But in this wilderness I traverse, there is no soft place to rest. My only hope is the end of trail, so close now that I can feel the breeze of it wafting through my soul- speaking of waters and green grasses and the scent of flowers. And I pray that the wind does not lie. Because for better or for worse, I am committed to the end of my journey.

Along the way I am learning to hold close small victories- to raise them to proportions out of bounds of everyday life. Being raised and accepted as a lay reader, holding the processional cross, a hand weighted on my head with all the blessings of a good man, and the warm touch of oil on my forehead. I hold dear a quiet thanks for speaking my mind at a faculty-student meeting which allowed others to raise doubts. The knowledge that my voice was finally heard and I am no longer shouting in the dark to stone effigies in the shape of faculty. A quiet morning spent with friends. This is the fodder my soul is using to keep on the plodding journey. And now is not the time for parsimony.

Are we there yet?

Amazing how things like going back to school have the ability to reduce you to your six year old self. When all you lived for was the weekends and the vacation days. I find myself continually counting the days until I have some time off. Constantly checking with other students to make sure I have the correct number of days counted, because I might have made a mistake. What if I counted more? What if I counted less? Oh, the horrors of having an extra, unplanned for day! Its hard when I am so close to getting out of here, but still a semester away. Hell, I can barely concentrate on the semester at hand! I have a paper rewrite that was due yesterday and I still haven't even started. I pulled it up on Tuesday night after the finals were over and just ended up starring blankly at it for a while before shutting down my laptop and going to bed. Again I did the same last night and today. So I am still no closer to my goal.

Daily I am telling myself I made the right choice. I will graduate. I will love my job. I will make the difference in life that I know I need to make. But there are so many days when I fear this. I wonder. Is it enough? Will I enjoy my job when I hate the process of obtaining that job so much? And the truth is, I don't know. I really don't. I think I know that I will love helping people. That I will find true meaning to my life by providing health services for those who have no other way of doing it. That starting a health clinic out of my church will give me the depth of life that I need to survive. But I don't know. And not knowing is killing me.

I wonder sometimes if this is, in a tiny way, what Jesus felt. If all people who teeter on the edge of service, true service, and calling feel this doubt. I wonder if they toed the edge praying for respite or if they bravely stepped out into the abyss. I stand by the edge, ready to take that jump. But I fear the unknown. And am frustrated by that fear. I have never feared like this before, but then, the stakes were never so high as they are now. Not just my own life, but so many will rest in my hands. What a burden, what a blessing.