From my prayer of imagination:
Cold.
The sharp rock hurts my feet.
Thorns claw and pierce my arms and legs, and what is this? I bleed. It burns.
Light hurts my eyes. Darkness full of greedy sounds--I'm not the only one who is hungry.
These skins stink. My skin is raw against their roughness.
Alone.
Terror. All that was friend, light, life has turned stranger and threat.
Banished. I look back--too bright! Shekinah fearsome blocks the way. No undoing. No going back. Can't do it over; can't make it right. Can't have that life anymore.
Why did I ... ?
Is this forever?
Where is love? Where do I belong? Where can I be safe?
Yes, there is work. Some fruit. But can there be joy?
So weary. Soul weary.
Reflection:
Noticing energy, questions, invitation and resistance. Especially my own resistance. Do I accept that there is no going back? That the way before is all changed, and scary. I KNOW that God is with me, that He went with Adam and Eve and all humanity and meets us still--outside the Garden. But there are things here that I resist. What? To move on from where I cannot return? To moving away from roles and relationships that were fruitful, nourishing, joyful and satisfying, that are not there anymore?
Is it resistance, or weariness? A new question for me. Rather than being unwilling to move on, am I simply too tired to move on right now?
For now, the invitation seems to be to be willing to stay patiently in this space--to be willing to stay with it and grieve, and wait.
Yesterday (March 7th) we traveled from Turkey to Albania where we will spend this week teaching Bible school students from five nations. I am loved here, have invested much here in the last ten years, and it is a place of much fruit. Today we've past rich times with folks we've known for 40 years. Miracle to encounter one another at this remote intersection of the world. Joy! And yet I am so weary....
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