I went home to Minnesota two days after Christmas. I got to spend two weeks surrounded by the people I love most, drive through blizzards and freezing rain, and sleep in a double bed. For the first week, I had no trouble enjoying being home. I was thrilled by the sharp, dry cold; I was so happy to be in familiar places; I loved developing and deepening my closest relationships. Then, suddenly, I had been home for a week and I only had a week left. Time went so quickly! At first, I was really sad - how could I leave after just coming home? There wasn't enough time to do everything I wanted to do. But I kept pushing the thought of how soon I'd have to leave out of my mind - I wanted to just enjoy the time I had and not worry about how fast it was passing. I worked hard to live in the moment, in the day that I was currently experiencing, and to just take things as they came.
The essence of this lesson is to be content with what I have, now. And not just to be content, but to embrace and love and invest my whole heart in the moment I'm living, right now. I could do that more easily at home than I was able to do at the Priory during December because I had anticipated and wanted to be home for so long, but also because it was such a short time. I didn't run out of energy to invest in the people and places I only got to visit for two weeks. It was a sprint that I'm still tired from! Being here again is much more like a marathon - it's a much longer time, and I have to find ways to invest enough in each part of my time here - in my work, in the sisters, in my prayer and alone time, and in my communication with my loved ones. It's a trickier balance here because it's long-term - I have to remind myself to embrace every single day here, because it will soon come to an end as well. The first four months of my time in Washington went very quickly, and I know these next few will fly by as well. I want to really live here, in the moment, in each day. I want to be fully invested in my life here and not wish or worry it away by thinking of when it will end. It won't always be easy, but I want to treasure every gift God gives me so freely through my life here - and all I have to do is be open to receiving those gifts.
This brings me to the second part of my lesson. I was trying to describe my feelings as I flew from Minnesota to Washington for the third time in 5 months. I was so sad to leave my family, my boyfriend, and my best friends, and I let the tears come as I sat waiting to leave the airport. It was bitter to say goodbye to them for another long stretch of time. But when I got off the plane in Seattle and got nearer to St. Placid, I knew the sisters would be waiting for me just like my family had waited for me at home. And when I arrived, I was overcome by such incredible hospitality and love. Three of the sisters welcomed me home with hugs and warm greetings (even S. Mary, although it was almost an hour past her bedtime! She had insisted they play Bananagrams in my honor until I got home!). I had flowers and little gifts waiting outside my door, the heat in my room was turned up, and everyone wanted to give me hugs and tell me how glad they were that I was home again. And it really did feel like I was home. It was so sweet, such a comfortable and loving return, and I felt so much joy and peace to be back. Kevin has been trying to tell me for months that bittersweet is a wonderful feeling - I'm still not sure I savor the tension between the two, but the sweetness definitely softens the bitterness, so I can appreciate it more now.
I wrote a poem yesterday that describes this transition and kind of summarizes my lessons. I'll leave you with it.
The Bridge
I am a bridge
connecting two worlds
I am an intersection
an exchange
a collision
a fusion
of who I am
who I was
who I will be
I pull myself into more than one life
I pour myself out at both ends
I am sustained at both ends
by strong connections
pillars of support
solid, strong foundations
But in the middle
when I travel inside myself
when I am suspended between my worlds
not fully in one or the other
I lose sight of my support
I wander, panicking, high above the rushing water
that would sweep me away if I fell
often forgetting that
I am not alone, walking tensely through darkness
Someone walks with me
offering me His hand
holding a light
showing me the way
if only I would stop staring into the rushing water
and clinging to my own fragile railings
if only I would take His hand
and let him guide me
walk with me
journey through the darkness, lighting my way
if only I would let go
and trust my friend and companion
my lover
my Savior
Peace and love.
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