Tunnel's End

An overwhelming job divided cannot conquer. It may try to divide us for a time, but not forever.

It is Friday night. Tomorrow the city Sisters will arrive and Long Retreat will begin with Vespers in the refurbished chapel. There are new seat cushions in every chair, the slate floor was washed at least three times, windows are clean and wood is oiled. It is a bit dark because we have no electricity, so it is not perfect, but it is holy space again and that is enough.

The old convent has been thoroughly cleaned, stripped down and rearranged: new plumbing installed, trash hauled again and again and again to the dumpster. (The dumpster people have been called a half dozen times; their promises to pick up… still unkept.) So that is not perfect either, but still… enough. St. Cuthbert's has also been cleaned and rearranged, cozy sitting areas laid out for reading, meditation or quiet contemplation. The refectory is clear of all the potatoes and garlic and seeds which were drying on the big tables. It stands waiting for delicious meals, healthy organic vegetarian meals from the burgeoning garden. Fresh cheese cools in the fridge. Freshly harvested tomatoes, squash, greens, beans, potatoes and herbs are tucked on windowsills, in the cold room, in the root cellar. All has been made tidy and beautiful.

We are tired, but it is a good tired. One of accomplishment and joy. There was always light at the end of the tunnel.
Now even I can see it.