It’s been two weeks–only a mere two weeks–wandering in the wilderness, and I admit I have looked longingly back at Egypt more than once. I’m not proud of this, mind you. But the reality is that stepping off the merry-go-round of career into the wilderness of transition is a challenge for me.
I said it.
It is a challenge for me.
I want to be all “oh this is the best thing ever…I never knew my hardwood floors could shine like this. I love being able to truly sit in the silence of the morning and breathe while I journal and drink my coffee. I’m already creating Christmas presents from scratch. The love overflows.”
But that would be a lie.
It’s more like, “Wow, it is uncomfortable to be a panelist for a presentation on marriage rights and not be representing a community. Hmm…how do I answer this question about what I do now? Ummm…when someone asks about my reality how to I honor it honestly without having a replay of the scene from Sex in the City where Charlotte blurts the full details of her marriage/separation drama to a complete stranger over a simple observation about the beauty of her wedding ring?”
How is it that following God and listening to call can land one in the midst of the wilderness worrying about becoming a version of Sex in the City? That is what I want to know.
How is it that acting in ways that correspond with what one (me) says one (I) believes creates such tension and anxiety within? This is where my previous (intellectual) knowledge of faith formation becomes useful.
How is it that I could sense the Holy so palpably a few weeks ago and yet here, in the midst of the wild, I can’t even seem to feel a breeze? This is why I’m writing today.
For the last four years I’ve been engaged in full-time ministry. The cartography of my life fashioned by the calendar of the Church. For two weeks I’ve wandered beyond the lines of that map and into the wilderness. And though I might look back at Egypt, I know that is not where God calls. God calls me forward and into the wild.