Still Becoming

Hello, Dear Ones,

I've been pondering what to blog about lately, which may be why this one's a little late.  There was the weekend I spent at a conference, where I learned quite a bit, mostly about how well I do (or not) when away from home and my usual comforts and disciplines.  There is the dissertation chapter I sent to my supervisors recently, and the resulting shift of focus, from Cuthbert of Lindisfarne to Brigit of Kildare.  And there's the online course in World Religions that I'm teaching this summer -- a course that I've taught many times now, but in a whole new format.  It took a lot of work to get the course built, and we didn't know whether it would actually run or not.  Today is the first day.

And then I saw the illustration at the top of this column,  "still becoming," with that gorgeous embroidered butterfly.  (Thank you, Louise Hay.) And I thought, that's it.  Taken individually, none of these topics is all that compelling, but all together I think they say something important about a life of faith.  At root, it's all about the process of becoming.  How many grandmas do you know who are working on doctorates? How many adjuncts in the humanities are pushing their administrators to allow them to teach their first online course?  How many academics in their late fifties are attending a range of conferences, not to present, but just to find out which ones address their research interests?  Sure, there are some out there, but not many.  Or at least, I haven't met many.


My husband told me about a supervisor who said to him many years ago, "If you haven't made it by the time you're thirty, you'll never make it."  That just strikes me as sad.  Thirty is maybe one-third of a life span, if you're in good health.  Conservatively, maybe half.  It would be an extraordinary life indeed that was complete in any but the most sublime sense at such an early age.  And yet, look at how many people don't really do much that is interesting, or challenging, or stretches them much once they pass, maybe, forty.  Their goal seems to be to build a safety net of home, job, family, and friends, and stay there.  And I sometimes wish I had such a safety net.  But that doesn't seem as though it is meant to be.


My life has been full of change, sometimes painful and regrettable, sometimes exciting and joyful.  But almost every time I have sensed the Holy Spirit calling me to something new, something better, something more challenging, something that allows me to reach further, climb higher, go deeper.  That's where the faith comes in, faith meaning "trust," going on to the next challenge, not just "because it's there," but because the voice that is calling has proved to be trustworthy.  I become more fully human, and my capacity for service to others is deepened and broadened.  That's the real goal; to be Christ-like in my own life, and to serve Christ in others.  It's the work of a lifetime (and more, I suspect), but as long as I'm still becoming, it's worth it.

Blessings, Beth