I wrote this poem about vocation many years ago for my husband. We believe all the same things, but we have trouble believing them in the same ecclesial location.
I who have always belonged, constantly striving
to strike out a world on my own, boundaries breaking
secure that the ground would not fall and the answer was waiting—
how could I have known of the questions with which you are living?
How could I know what it means to be endlessly choosing
out of a world which presents rivers and mazes,
searching for claims on the truth, looking for causes,
seeing the edge of the cliff and the world you are losing?
Here in the meeting, here between breaking and bending,
perhaps you can teach me to live claiming and yielding
here where I might learn to tend all the things that are growing—
not only leaving and searching, but keeping and finding.
Image by me of the Victory Noll Center in 2012.
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