If I were to use one word to describe this past year, from the time I left Lander, Wyoming, to spend three weeks backpacking in the mountains, to studying my brains out (almost literally) at Wyoming Catholic College, to now, sitting in my parents' kitchen at home in comfortable Ohio (or "the Shire", to evoke a good comparison), it would be process.
- a systematic series of actions directed to some end
- a continuous action, operation, or series of changes taking place in a definite manner (from dictionary.com)
Neither of these two definitions quite fits the bill, because my year has not been "systematic" or "definite" -- though perhaps it is from God's point of view. He definitely sees it as directed to an end. But I like the second definition, the words "continuous action ... or series of changes".
When I ponder this, the first thing that comes to mind is the Church. One big reason why I love the Catholic Church so much is for her divinely inspired balance between growth and solidness, adaptability and dependability, diversity and tradition. We have a cycle of liturgical seasons, but they do not vary from year to year; every year is the same cycle. The Church mirrors nature in this way, with its own cycle of seasons. (Or nature mirrors the Church, because God created everything to point to something else. So He created the natural cycle of the seasons to remind us of what the Church does. Thanks, theology class!) So too for my life, I have in many ways stayed the same; but on this soil that has grown richer year after year, new sprouts have begun to grow in all directions.
It's time to begin, isn't it?/
I get a little bit/
Bigger, but then, I'll admit/
I'm just the same as I was/
Now, don't you understand/
That I'm never changing who I am?
(Imagine Dragons, "It's Time"
It hasn't always been a blossom of flowers, though. I have learned not only good things, but also flaws about myself. There has been suffering along the way, new crosses that I've had to carry this past year, and beyond. Every day, Christ asks me lovingly to take another step, and every day I either place that step willingly, or I struggle. It's really all about trust.
A recent study I read about families the other day said that the youngest tends to be a "free spirit". I told my mom (being the youngest in my family, I was naturally curious to see what she thought), and she seemed to agree. "Those are just over-generalizations" she said, but I knew she agreed with the experts about me. I'm quite a quiet person, so you wouldn't really know it on first sight, but I can say without boasting that I am one of the most adventurous persons in my family. (For Pete's sake, I went all the way to Wyoming for a 21-day wilderness expedition. I ought to be adventurous.) On some level, it's hard to admit, because we all have such a tendency to put ourselves down. I suffer this especially, I think, but my year at Wyoming has been so full of truth that I can recognize this about myself and thank God for it.
Why do I say all this about free spirits? Because, as I said, it's all about trust. God used my stubbornness and my free spirit to get me to Wyoming, but wouldn't you know it, those same characteristics often turn against me in my relationship to God. It's so hard to "let go, and let God". But a priest told me recently in confession to make frequent acts of surrender, and here is what I pray:
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and the wisdom to know the difference.
Or, I simply pray: My God, I surrender. I surrender all into Your hands.
So, process. To sum up, I would say that this word doesn't only describe my past year; it describes the rest of my life. And what a process it will be. Lead me on, my God.
