Stability, The Place, and Fr. Aidan's Call To Action
I feel like a broken record.
Every Fall my priest gives a series of lectures on a theme of his choosing in which participants read assigned fiction, church fathers, bible commentary, etc. This Falls' Theological Seminar is on community.
I wasn't at this past Wednesday's lecture. I've never been to one. Motherhood keeps me busy on Wednesday nights. But, I did read the text of Father's lecture online, and all I have to say is: ACK.
Stability. Permanence. These things are so necessary for developing true community. Father's message encouraged everyone to stay put. Count your blessings where you're at. Work on building community. Stop aimlessly wandering.
I'm all about putting down roots. But, I also almost always feel like I'm wandering, like I'm not quite where I'm supposed to be. That makes me feel quite unsettled, and always makes me look at where I'm at as a transitory place. Only two places have ever felt like home -- like a place I'd like to live until I breathe my last. They were Mexico and Oregon. I left both places with a deep sense of remorse.
So, I read Father's lecture and say -- Harrumph. I'll stay put, but only after I find The Place I'm supposed to be. I honestly believe I'm not supposed to be here. Right now my place of choice would be Ashland, OR because I know the community, the climate, and the parish. My godmother is there, as is my husband's. Good friends live there. And a couple good friends would gladly follow us there if we moved. When I was convinced that America was going to hell in a handbasket and that the wisest thing to do would be to flee the country, I was definitely leaning toward Orizaba, Mexico. I still won't rule it out. But I'm less inclined to go there because it's so unfamiliar. I know the region. I know the culture, but I don't know the community or the parish. It'd be starting from scratch all over again.
So, I feel like I'm supposed to be here now, but that this isn't home. This isn't where I'm supposed to settle. This isn't the place where I'm supposed to practice the virtues of stability and permanence.
This attitude of mine drives Steve crazy. Half of that is probably because he feels so rootless himself. He's thirty-five and still doesn't know what he wants to do with his life. He has no sense of vocation or calling, no sense of purpose. He doesn't really have a job, but we don't call him unemployed. We call him self-employed, and he earns the majority of our income in at least a half a dozen random ways but mostly as a lab rat. He's dissatisfied with it, but doesn't know what else to do.
So, I started praying for him to gain a sense of vocation, to know what it is he's supposed to be doing, and to have peace. Perhaps if he could have a vision for what he's supposed to be doing, if he could have a sense of purpose and create real goals, then he could start living more deliberately. Then, perhaps, we really could choose The Place and settle there.
Every Fall my priest gives a series of lectures on a theme of his choosing in which participants read assigned fiction, church fathers, bible commentary, etc. This Falls' Theological Seminar is on community.
I wasn't at this past Wednesday's lecture. I've never been to one. Motherhood keeps me busy on Wednesday nights. But, I did read the text of Father's lecture online, and all I have to say is: ACK.
Stability. Permanence. These things are so necessary for developing true community. Father's message encouraged everyone to stay put. Count your blessings where you're at. Work on building community. Stop aimlessly wandering.
I'm all about putting down roots. But, I also almost always feel like I'm wandering, like I'm not quite where I'm supposed to be. That makes me feel quite unsettled, and always makes me look at where I'm at as a transitory place. Only two places have ever felt like home -- like a place I'd like to live until I breathe my last. They were Mexico and Oregon. I left both places with a deep sense of remorse.
So, I read Father's lecture and say -- Harrumph. I'll stay put, but only after I find The Place I'm supposed to be. I honestly believe I'm not supposed to be here. Right now my place of choice would be Ashland, OR because I know the community, the climate, and the parish. My godmother is there, as is my husband's. Good friends live there. And a couple good friends would gladly follow us there if we moved. When I was convinced that America was going to hell in a handbasket and that the wisest thing to do would be to flee the country, I was definitely leaning toward Orizaba, Mexico. I still won't rule it out. But I'm less inclined to go there because it's so unfamiliar. I know the region. I know the culture, but I don't know the community or the parish. It'd be starting from scratch all over again.
So, I feel like I'm supposed to be here now, but that this isn't home. This isn't where I'm supposed to settle. This isn't the place where I'm supposed to practice the virtues of stability and permanence.
This attitude of mine drives Steve crazy. Half of that is probably because he feels so rootless himself. He's thirty-five and still doesn't know what he wants to do with his life. He has no sense of vocation or calling, no sense of purpose. He doesn't really have a job, but we don't call him unemployed. We call him self-employed, and he earns the majority of our income in at least a half a dozen random ways but mostly as a lab rat. He's dissatisfied with it, but doesn't know what else to do.
So, I started praying for him to gain a sense of vocation, to know what it is he's supposed to be doing, and to have peace. Perhaps if he could have a vision for what he's supposed to be doing, if he could have a sense of purpose and create real goals, then he could start living more deliberately. Then, perhaps, we really could choose The Place and settle there.