Moving on. Reflection from a few weeks ago.
With my up and down personality and musings, it is only fitting that I thought of a song from my own middle school years yesterday walking down the mountain:
… Pressing on. I won’t look back and take this anymore because I’m done with that. I have one foot out the door. To go back to where I was would just be wrong—I’m pressin’ on.
The context was in being sick, but it applies, nonetheless to any situation of life and was the topic spoken about in religious assembly, just today—perseverance. “I have decided to follow Jesus. No turning back.”
On our ethereal and magical hike this past weekend with the middle schoolers, we passed through a natural butterfly garden whilst parading down a stone wall which runs along a stream and a hedge along a forest. Flittering past. Bright blue! Purple, red, black, white, yellow, green.
Thinking about transition as the butterfly reminds me of God’s love and vitality, I have to consider where I’m at in this awkward position of student-teacher. I can’t say that I think we ever transition out of this phase. We always have much to teach and much to learn—who doesn’t learn from a young child or learn even as she ages with graying hair? Even so, I am aching in the growing pains just as scripture describes of all of creation. As I see and feel and know and believe I need to grow up and move on in maturity, again, as Paul absconds the church. Seeking in order to lay down. Striving to let go. Working to rest. The paradoxes of the divine wisdom of the truth and logic of faith. Oh joy of joys and mysteries revealed. “Run like a vagabond.”
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