Six Years, and Still Emerging

Yesterday was six years since Elizabeth and I declared our intention to begin as a new community.  We had a brief service in the chapel in Holy Cross Monastery.  A third woman joined us in this declaration, but decided soon after that she was on a different path.  (You know who you are, and you know we love you!).

Six years ago we were sure that we were the first of many women who would join.  We saw ourselves as an Episcopal community for women.  We didn't want to just follow someone else's template for a community, but we did carry expectations based on what we knew - monastic communities.  We wanted to be open to the guiding of the Spirit, but looking back I can see how fixed my expectations really were.  We wrote a covenant, like a rule, and tried to live by it.

That picture began to erode almost immediately.  Women started coming to events - and not all of them were Episcopal, or Anglican.  Some men and trans folk starting asking if they were welcome.  Many people said they wanted to live a covenanted life, but they were married or didn't feel called to monastic life.  In short, all our parameters got challenged.  And as we listened, we said yes.  Today we are a post-denominational community for people of all genders.

What didn't happen was that next person who would live in community with us.  Some expressed interest but withdrew.  But mostly, years passed with no one coming forward.  We began by saying, "Who knows?  Maybe it's just us, maybe we're tending a hearth for something bigger."  But as time went by, I got a little discouraged.  I knew the histories, that sometimes two people would hold a community for years before the next people came, but I feared it wouldn't happen.  And it felt wrong, somehow.  Yes, our extended community has grown and deepened, but I had my picture!

During this last retreat I got in touch with some of that, and I began to really begin at the beginning again.  I remembered that when we started all we asked for was someone to pray with, to share a consecrated life.  And I got that.  And out of that, I'm getting more: a wonderful circle of people who matter to me, to whom I can contribute and from whom I receive.  So what's the problem?

There is no problem except my expectations and pictures.  When I let go, I see that God is still not done with us.  In two weeks we will be with three people in Omaha who are creating community there.  Something is growing on the prairie, of all places.  Something is growing in our living room, where people come each Friday.  Something is growing among people who are talking online about what really matters to them.

So I'm giving up on destinations.  I'll look for direction and let the destination reveal itself.  This way I can enjoy the ride, enjoy my companions, and give thanks to God for the wonders being done among us.

And I wonder: Can you relate to this?  Where are you letting expectations and pictures blind you to the richness of your life?  Ask God to help you see and let go into the wonder.

Thank you for being on the ride with us.  It's wild, and sometimes scary.  But it's never dull!