What an unsettled time this is. My father's illness (he was diagnosed with lung cancer recently). The fires in the parish. Packing up to spend the next three months in India. Leaving home, the city where I've lived a third of my life, the longest I've lived in any place. Before a huge life change this fall.
I've felt rudderless. Without mooring. Not sure at times, what exactly is going on, what I should feel, what's in my heart. The frenetic activity of the past few months has eclipsed that. Now however, sitting in an almost empty apartment (the bed and the broadband will be last to go ... ), everything seems raw. Old memories obscured in a corner emerge, to be regarded with fondness (or not), and then discarded, as books and papers and letters and all the accretions of time are gathered up and sorted and thrown away and boxed and moved.
It's so empty!
Two lines from today's Liturgy of the Word have bounced around in my head all day.
" ... for God is greater than our hearts and knows everything ... " (1 John 3:20)
"Whoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit, because without me you can do nothing." (John 15:5)
That and the powerful, evangelical, preaching of our deacon. Oh the Holy Spirit was speaking through him! And the warmth and the love of the people as we weather a crisis in the parish ... I realized with a start just how much I'm going to miss being away from a Christian community in the next three months. At least there'll be Mass near where my folks live.
If anything, I pray, that in this upcoming season, with all its uncertainty and fear, I can remain rooted in the Vine.
For without Him, I can do nothing.