Today is my second anniversary at CCJ. In another way of looking at it, I'm starting my third year here. For a time, I wondered whether this position was going to be the interim, while I figured out what God's next plan for my life was. Apparently, this was his plan. I am where He wants me to be. Time to unpack and settle in.
Hard to believe that someone could hang out in a place for 730 days and not settle in, but I've really done it here. My desk is piled high with papers needing organization. I have a photo frame with two family photos on my shelf. An inspirational photo from my last office. Two plants, one that a former co-worker sent when I arrived, and a philodendron growing in an Arizona tea bottle that Leslie gave me after Lloyd died of lung cancer at age 42. It was a piece of the one Lloyd grew all around the house. I brought it into my office in April, following Lucy's death. I see both of them need attention, as does my desk. As do I.
I'm not very good at tending to myself. Mike is demanding I take a few days off next week, and I submitted reluctantly to three days at the Canyon. Did I really say that? "Submitted...reluctantly...Canyon"? I have lost my boundaries here.
The thought that crosses my mind today is "burning." What IS it that I'm on fire for? I am moved by many things. My heart aches for the homeless, the hungry, traumatized veterans, and so many other groups of people who don't have what I consider basic necessities: food, clean and plentiful water, shelter, mental and physical health, resources, relationships, peace. Truly, a large percentage of the global population.
I used to think I could change the world. And at 50, I feel like I've lost that idealism. I can't change my country, my state, or even my sick red county. I've resorted to celebrating when I can -- at least temporarily -- change the circumstances of some people who cross my path here at CCJ. But that feeling is so fleeting. Have I really changed them long-term or just made them more comfortable in their poverty? Have they grasped the power of change or have I acted for them? It's so difficult to see the bigger picture.
I find it so easy to get stirred up about an issue, really stoked, and then the moment passes. Like throwing countless logs on the fire and building a huge inferno, soon to burn out. A few embers remain, but the heat is gone until rebuilt with new logs.
Slow burn. That's what I need to learn. I need to feed the fire one small log at a time with a sustaining passion. Make action a daily, hourly, continuing effort without the bursts of fuel. Working for that compassionate, just community as praxis, rather than consumption.
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