My Side of the Mountain

"So you are going to be a nun?" the parent of one of my ex-geometry students asked me. I put up my hand, as I glanced out of the corner of my eye my priest, who when I returned from my recent 'pilgrimage,' seemed to be a bit surprised that I really meant to do what I told him I intended to do...just about a year ago, I think. I'm thinking maybe he needs more time to get used to it, but frankly, I need more time to get used to it, too. Talking about something is a whole lot different than doing something.

Entering seminary was a lot like that. Only no one in the Methodist Church seemed surprised, except Keith, who was the primary reason I decided to go. Odd how mentors walk with us and support us, but sometimes have their own ideas about who we should be. But at that time, I was surprised that SMU would even consider me. I was surprised when I wrote my letter of resignation to the college, walking away from very good job as an instructional associate. I was surprised when I didn't flunk out of seminary. I was surprised when my paper was published. I was surprised when I had several job offers. I was surprised when I passed the initial tests and review boards. I expected to fail. I didn't. I had to force that to happen.

But that was because, I knew in my heart, I was not where I was supposed to be. This time, though, is different. I have no doubt in my mind. I am finally doing what I said I would do.

When you find that one perfect thing, that pearl of great price, and you know you must sell everything you have in order to get it...you do it and you do it with joy.

It just took me 40 years to realize what I knew from the time I was born what I had to do. And if I succeed or fail, it really doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is that I stay true to my quest. My impossible dream. And right now, I think that includes trying to be a nun.

Sister said "Give it a year. You can give it a year. Then decide." And oh, if they will let me give them a year...what gifts might I find that I can give and receive during that time! Even if I fail, I will not have failed. And if I can have the courage and stamina to write, then just maybe...someone else will try...and maybe find that this is her life waiting for her, or his life waiting for him...and that will be return enough...or not. I must stay true to who I am. As you must do.

"Amy, what you wanna do?
I think I could stay with you
For a while, maybe longer if I do
I keep falling in and out of love with you
Falling in and out of love with you
Don't know what I'm gonna do
I just keep falling in and out of love with you"
Pure Prairie League on the radio

The trouble is, I have never fallen out of love with God. But I have searched long and hard for substitutes, which satisfy for a time, but never long enough. Now that I am old with gray hair, I can see that God never really planned for me to love anyone as much as I love Him.

I'm not going to claim that this life is for everyone, but it seems to suit me. And if God wills it, I will succeed. And if God wills something else, I will accept that with joy also.

This is my side of the mountain. As I make my way back to Him, this is my path. Sometimes I'll get to share it with others and sometimes I'll walk alone, but I hope I am done with trying to walk someone else's path. I am high on the sheer joy of waking up to my own place in this world. Odd as it is, it belongs to me.

Now as to the Steinway that entered my life a couple of days ago. I know pianos. I have played as many as I can find. I have ventured into doors that were supposed to be locked and tried them out. I have played on stage when no one was around and I have played on stage to screaming college students...and no, I am not ready to open up that story...for a long LONG time. But when I stumble on something of beauty, I am captivated by it.
Such was the Steinway this last week. I am coveting it. I want to know it and I want it to know me. It has a color unlike any I have heard in a long long time...and it has stirred up feelings I thought were dead. I long to hear it sing and I long to make it sing. I remember a person who I thought I was, and I remember what I knew I would have to give up were I to follow that dream...and I knew it was just to much to give up. I had made commitments and people were depending on me. What I could have done then, what I might have been...sits in a mist that I thought was dead. Now I wonder, what God intends to show me by waking up this dream again.

When I play, the beast in me calms. When I play, the beast in my neighbor calms. It is an expression of prayer that transcends our words and reaches to God in a direct line precisely because it does not have to be filtered through speech.
I recall the Brahms again, when I realized I had played it perfectly, I was stunned by its beauty. And it almost killed me.

Such is the feeling of a miracle. You do what God asks you and He decides to let you see it fulfilled. He shows you the other side of the mountain. He shows you, in fleeting moments, how good things can be when we just rest in Him and let Him take us through the storm. It is the most wonderful feeling in the world. Truly it is the joy of a young bride in anticipation of bringing new life into the world.

Or an old one: (from today's reading from Genesis)
They asked Abraham, "Where is your wife Sarah?"
He replied, "There in the tent."
One of them said, "I will surely return to you about this time next year,
and Sarah will then have a son."

Give Him your best and He will give you His best.

I'm going to stop here for now. I need to pray.

Love, Cindy