I spent this past week with some pretty extraordinary people. I learned quite a bit and was able to catch up with old friends. I learned that whenever I worry about something that I am suppose to do, God goes before me. I learned that there are people out there that are getting their time to shine because Pope Francis is open to the movements of the Holy Spirit. I learned that it is really “all good”.
But, I also learned, (and this is what I always learn) that I love to be home. That three days away from my routine and my family is enough. Four pushes me over the edge. I learned that I am not as passionate about my job as are so many others who run these programs. But I am grateful that they are because they teach me the importance of passion. I am, however, passionate about our purpose. About being a reminder to people who do not know and need to know, that we are all made in the image and likeness of God. That we are all loved infinitely.
I know that there are a lot of people who may read this and roll their eyes. I know that it falls on deaf ears and that’s all okay because I am part of a faith that does not box God into to a time or a place or a particular understanding. I am part of a faith that views God as magnanimous and beyond understanding. I am part of a faith that looks for the extravagant love in forgiveness and in acceptance. This faith is also bound by the limits that it sets on itself. My prayer is that it will grow out of those limits and mature into something that resembles the best of it’s teachings. That is bask in the mystics and the theologians who lift it up to someplace beyond the temporal.
So, here I am, home again surrounded by my loved ones, my books, my animals and my plants. Snugly situated in my little part of the world. I love to be home.