Labyrinth

At the Franciscan Retreat Center, there is a garden with a labyrinth. I walked the labyrinth early in the morning, before breakfast. As I did so, several ideas came to me. The winding path, which heads in and out, seemed to represent my own path, as I prepare to move even though I do not yet have a job/calling to move to. I want to reach the center, but I have to be patient, and follow the path. Meaning is found along the path.

I looked down at the red sand in the path. It was compacted low in the middle, but a little higher along the edges. I realized that others have walked this path before, that I'm not alone.

Then I noticed that a few of the stones that line the path were slightly out of alignment. It was easy for me to tap them with my shoe as I walked, realigning them. That's what I am doing at my current church in the time I have left. It is no longer in my power to rearrange the rocks or to make major repairs. Such things, I now need to leave to others. But I can still tap a few rocks into place.

Later in the afternoon, I joined a few clergy friends for our annual hike up the hill. It's an easy hike which we take slowly, and after many years, we've finally figured out how not to get lost. The hike is a loop; we head up through an oak forest, and back down on a meandering path through a meadow dotted with cows. ("Happy cows," we assume.) This time, though, a suggestion was made that we reverse our route, and go UP through the meadow, and DOWN through the forest. We had to sleep on it. After all, we'd never done it that way before.

As it turns out, the path through the hilly meadow is a labyrinth in its own right...