Shell shock

Today was a long day... (what I once would have called a long damn day...) a facilitated meeting in the city with all the sisters: difficult topics, things we'd discussed already but still had not resolved, nerves frayed, feelings hurt. "Plowing the same ground" is what I called it, an expression once used on me by an ex-lover... and rightly so. I wasn't happy with the status quo in that relationship, but couldn't make it turn my way. So I kept discussing it, hoping he would see my point, hoping he would change his tune. He never did.

Tonight, on the other hand, three of us attended the installation of a rector in a nearby parish, a woman who celebrates for us twice a month. As with all celebrations of this sort, I was moved to tears by this outward, visible sign of commitment.

I feel the same tingling in my bones at life professions, weddings, baptisms... so much hope and potential invested in such an unknown future. In these moments of professed commitment, I live vicariously. Something stirs up my own need to commit, my own deep understanding that this road I'm on is the right road, the one God has chosen for me.

But I also question it on a regular basis. I struggle daily with: Yes, it seems right now, but is it forever? Yes, I am gaining a new awareness of my own contradictory capacity for cruelty and compassion, but is this place merely a training ground for something else? Is there unfinished business that I must resolve, is that what God has in mind? Inquiring minds want to know... my inquiring mind wants to know the end of the story before I'm through the second chapter.

Yet the sermon tonight touched me. (Slammed me is more like it.) "Living in community requires more than good manners. It requires hard work." was the first statement that zinged past me like a bullet. I was still recoiling from that, when he sent the next volley, so while I unconsciously knew it had hit me broadside, what I consciously thought was I needed a pen to write it down, because I was too stunned to comprehend exactly what he'd said. Even now I have no idea what he said. Whatever it was, it exploded somewhere deep, and life will not be the same. Ever.

Tonight I received communion with an entirely new understanding of Good Friday, a totally new appreciation for the Son of God, a ridiculous new willingness to let my gratitude rule my life. Will it last? Beats me. Will I flag? Most likely. Do I care? Not at the moment. At the moment I am at peace with investing all my potential in an unknown future... because it's the least I can do to say thank you. Thank you. THANK YOU.