"L'espérance ne consiste pas d'abord en un mouvement de l'homme vers le futur, mais en un mouvement de Dieu vers l'homme, en l'initiative de Dieu, en sa venue à partir de son avenir à lui."
~ frère Pierre-Yves Emery de Taizé, Le Souffle de l'Espérance
Taking up the quill (and the graphite) three weeks ago, and pondering the recent months from 35,000 feet above the North Atlantic, I saw that it had been far more than my labored steps which had brought me aloft- but truly the Source of all gracious substance. Rather than resist all that illuminates my present from what awaits, my thirst brought me to gladly unburden and surrender to what I could already see would be magnificent, without even knowing the details. With the hum of the large jet, and amidst the silent, sleeping passengers, the Psalmist's words came to me,"why are you cast down, my soul?" Surging waves of indignation have passed over me, and healing calm has taken hold. It is a literal and heartachingly humbling passover.
Now, just resuming the quotidian life I had stepped away from, there is as much that is familiar as there is which I no longer wish to consider routine. Bittersweetness is a spice sprinkled upon all our days, diluted or concentrated. However the peace that surpasses even a surface understanding brings me to discover consolation when it seems obstructed. The weeks of writing, visiting and celebrating, hiking, and reflection are only beginning to come to fruition. Each experience builds upon the value of accumulated adventures. Bringing it home is the challenge, and as with any life, be it sentient or not, nurture is essential. When I settled into my place on the TGV train between Taizé and Paris- at the midpoint of my journey- it was clear to me that while I hungered for my heart to be simply patched back together, what I had actually experienced was a subtle transfiguration.