The Wanderer

Well it's been two years of wandering. I hope that doesn't mean I have 38 to go! Two years ago we left Kingman, went to Ohio, stayed a few months and returned to Arizona in June, 2007. This has been such a lonely time with a lot of disappointments and challenges. The obvious challenge is Wes' bladder cancer but the unexpected disappointment was in relationships. I'm still trying to get a handle on that.

But today I am realizing this time of solitude (for lack of a better description) is perhaps bearing fruit. I am beginning to identify myself, my purpose and my way of living living following Jesus. Perhaps much of what I had done up to 2004 was based on other people's agendas for me. Maybe not so much because they intended to put their agenda on me but if someone (me) doesn't have a strong self identity and worth - it is easy to assume that of others.

And "the church" and its leaders found me ready to accept their ideology in just how this life should look. From the style of church I would attend to the roles I would assume in ministry. And much good came from that but there was also a lot of dysfunction. Two years away from active staff participation affords a different perspective.

But back to the isolation and wandering. I have tried so many ways to try to understand what God wants. Reading the bible, reading good books, counseling, talking to people I respect, seeking advice from friends. Trying to get it right so that this painful time would end. And yet I am still wondering about the wandering.

Henri Nouwen writes in "The Way of the Heart" that "solitude is the place of purification and transformation, the place of great struggle and the great encounter. Solitude is not simply a means to end. Solitude is its own end. It is the place where Christ remodels us in his own image and frees us from the victimizing compulsions of the world." (emphasis added)

Perhaps for the first time today I am valuing this period of wandering for the life changing experience it is. Let's face it - if anyone had put the words "Cindy Miller" and "works at hospice" in the same sentence a few years ago a riot of laughter would have erupted. Compassion and mercy are not my gifts. In fact last week I told Wes about his upcoming biopsy "it's not like they are taking a lung out...relax".

But something is changing in me and I see it in my work with hospice. Spending time with people who are in their final days on earth, people who have very limited ability to communicate but visibly respond to the reading of a Psalm or a prayer offered for them is doing something in me that 17 years of reading and asking and trying to accomplish hasn't done. Something is changing in me as a result of wandering and solitude.

Maybe I haven't been as alone as I thought!