Today was basically just a really long day of traveling. I am so tired that my thoughts are rather scattered. I’m not sure I’m very coherent tonight. But I’ve been pondering…
We left Marion, Ohio early this morning in order to make it to Greensboro, North Carolina in time to meet with wonderful friends for dinner. It was, however, in many ways, the beginning of our homecoming.
When we crossed the Ohio River into West Virginia, there was a stirring in my soul. The landscape felt familiar. Although I’ve never lived in West Virginia, the mountains here have always felt very welcoming to me. Their ancient slopes are softened by the wear of years and their cover of hardwood forests, so different from the evergreen and snow covered peaks we saw in the West. I always feel the mountains are wrapping me in a hug in West Virginia.
The farms, with their mown fields and pastures, are very similar to where I grew up in central Kentucky. An ancient way of life is still lived here, little changed by the availability of modern technologies, slow and steady, moving in time with the seasons. I actually felt my breath coming easier as something within me relaxed.
The highlight of the day was dinner with some of my fellow Benedictines and their families. I am so blessed to have friends in many different communities. Our Benedictine community spans the globe and the centuries. Like the mountains of West Virginia, those who live monastic life in the Benedictine tradition have inherited a legacy that has been shaped and softened by the years.
Both the West Virginia mountains and monastic life have taught me that there is much wisdom in those things that have stood the test of time and been shaped by it. There is a strength and a solidity from which I can learn and by which I can be formed. It is a wonderful heritage I’ve been given by those who have gone before.
“Thus says the Lord:
‘Stand by the roads, and look,
and ask for the ancient paths,
where the good way is; and walk in it
and find rest for your souls.’”
—Jeremiah 6:16
