It's still, at the moment.
Not much has been still lately, it seems. Is it because of my situation, or because inside I am not still? Am not calm. Am not at rest. The last two months constant whirlwinds have been pulling and pushing in my head. So much to plan, to buy, to coordinate, to prepare for, to think about, to dream ahead. I've had much more inter-personal conflict than ever I remember. Even now though the traveling is past, I've been thinking about the future, my future - about work, about school, about church. Some of these have been hard thoughts, bred by frustration, unmet expectations, and desires unreached. Some have been hopeful thoughts, too, but even those are confronted by my desperate need for miracles to make them possible. What do you do when your hopes come against the specter of the impossible?
What do you do when you never seem to get enough sleep, now in this season of sickness when you need it most? Or when you get so little time alone, or when that book you've been reading takes up so much of your mind-space? Or when you lose your appetite, and the taste for food? What do you do when it looks like the next 6 months will hold significant changes, and you're not sure how you feel about them? When, to be honest, there is fear lurking all around the periphery. Fear of what? I wish I knew.
This month is, to most people, the turn of the year. My year turns over in late fall, for some unknown reason. And since then, I haven't quite figured out where my feet should be standing for this new year. This uncertainty - this wobbliness on my feet - is not entirely unusual. But having so many things (apparently) at stake is. Having so many things potentially changing drastically is.
What is this the year of? What word-post can I hold onto, and follow confidently into the annual unknown? The word that keeps coming up is hope. And no fear. But mostly hope.
How, then, can I form an internal and external space in which to hold and strengthen hope? How can I make room for its largeness, its scope, its reach? How can I, practically, make room for hope and practice paying attention to it? That, I feel, is what I've been wrestling with. What, then, shall I do to engage in the newness of this year?
