a long way

I read something this evening that made me think hard about the good things in my life. About the pearls of wisdom, the blessings (big and small), the struggles that I have learned to embrace because in the grand scheme of things, they are nothing to anyone but me (and that's a whole level of selfish I don't even want to get into specifically right now!), and most of all, my faith. Lately, I've been thinking, pondering, attempting to discern what lies in my future. Today someone asked me a question that caught me off guard, but I was able to answer honestly--and the answer, with no guilt, was that I didn't know the answer. (Now that I think about it, that was directly related to the portion of Merton that I read at lunch!)

Anyway, what I read tonight was about comfort zones, and it's not the first time this person has brought them up! Over the past week or so, I've felt a little uncomfortable about faith, but for a reason I've never encountered before: I've been a tad uneasy because I've been comfortable. Sounds a little roundabout, but here's what it comes down to....the more I wonder where I'm going, while moving forward step by step, the more I keep coming around to who I am; who I've always known I was called to be. Yet it's evolving......and I'm honestly avoiding what I want to say right now.

Here's the thing: so many of the friends I've made at our church over the years have said, as I have, that our parish feels like home. It feels friendly, warm, inviting. In the time we've been there, we've had two pastors, which could be part of that feeling, but it comes from within the entire community. There is just something there, something special. This morning the Pope tweeted about need and wastefulness. A little later, my minute meditation was about sacrifice. Then a note about a nearby parish that is hoping to engage local youth in wholesome, safe activities to get them off the street. The page I read in Merton was about knowing oneself so as to ignore one's own desires to follow the will of God. Then the note I read tonight about an upcoming challenge.

Back to who I am. I'm a Mom. Even before we had children, I was attracted to the Mom role. So as I'm moving forward, as our kids are growing up and developing into fine young men, I've been wondering what happens next. I will always be their mother, but they won't always need mothering in the same way. I find I miss, truly, the huggy, clingy times; the frantic, too much to do in one day times. Not enough to depress me, but enough to be able to identify some of what is missing, diminishing in my life--the nurturing, the one on one, the deep gratitude for a few minutes alone. We have wonderful discussions, our laughter is on another level. Somehow, I'm feeling a need to share that some more.

I'm getting the idea that all of this will tie together somehow. But it may not. It could just be that a number of pieces kind of look like they belong in this part of the puzzle, but in reality, they don't fit together at all. That's okay. Just looking at them, admiring them, and trying them out in different combinations is fulfilling in and of itself. I've come a long way.

learn, grow, pray

There are times when clarity comes in crumbs, not in big signs. There are times when the clarity comes from saying or doing. And some times when keeping quiet (and wondering why the mouth just won't open) speaks volumes.

Forgiveness was the topic tonight, and the related difficulties: letting go, identifying, drawing that fine line between an important lesson learned and something else. Something like fear, hatred, resentment, bitterness. I've been in a position to feel any and all of those things, yet I found that when I chose to forgive -- honestly forgive -- I found strength. And comfort.

Somehow, we get the feeling that forgiving is giving up, and in some ways I guess it is, if you mean giving up the stuff that eats you up inside. But forgiving is not the same as admitting defeat or defect, it's not weakness. And it doesn't mean that forgetting is necessary, although constant, painful reminders are certainly not beneficial.

For me, the work of healing began with the decision to forgive, followed by a decision to pray for all those involved. (Something I continue to do, though not as often now.) I was (and still am!) amazed at how quickly the memory faded, like an old photograph; a sepia-toned image of another time and place. The scariest part was making that decision to forgive; admitting that I wanted to. Why? I may never know for sure, but I suspect a devilish influence on my emotions. I was tempted to react harshly; to judge without having all the facts.

My point is, as much as it surprises me to say, I'm grateful. Grateful for the experience, the knowledge, the grace, the growth. Without this exercise in forgiveness, there are so many things about myself I wouldn't know. Actually, I'm pretty sure I still don't know the depth of what I've learned, and may not ever. I'd rather not be tested again, but that's not for me to decide. I'll just keep learning, growing, praying.