A couple of years ago, I participated in a discernment process for spiritual service. The consensus amongst my committee of twelve was that I was, indeed, called.
But then my life changed dramatically. I married and I moved. I thought perhaps my spiritual call would be played out through my photographic art and written word, so I laid aside active pursuit of formal spiritual vocation.
Turns out, the Divine didn’t.
I’ve been feeling a niggling throughout the winter. It turned into a sharp elbow in the ribs over the past few weeks. I acknowledged it to Bryan a couple of days ago, and together we’ve watched the holy Spirit roar her affirmation.
So, though I don’t understand how it will turn out, I’m going to resume the path. I was praying this morning, and I asked God to give me a clearer vision, because it seems impossible to me. The response?
“If I gave you a clear view of the meandering path, you’d cut a straight swath to the destination, and miss everything you need to see (and learn) in the curves.”
Damn. Oops. I mean, Blessed be.