I remember the time when your presence was felt by all with a great hush coming over the crowd.
I stood watching. What’s the message? Jesus, Mother/Father Sophia, I am bounded and lost in the dark. Do you say I am the Light? They are the light, too?
Oh feet help me stand, I want to skip, but don’t walk so fast. Nightfall has come and the day has come, filled, and has gone. My everything, have I come closer to you?
Did I tell you that I dropped my heart today? I see a soul reflection in the wind, whispering sweet nothings, and my eyes drowning with sweet waters, oh what sweet joy, compassion. ©
E.Narayan
I am not unique, nor am I the only one traveling this ‘road less traveled.’ I like to offer you this, that speaks to the ‘Wounded Healer.’ In fact, it was the time when I was living in a monastic community, in 1997, I met Fr. Henri Nouwen. He had come into the bookstore asking for directions to the chapel. I was in awe; I had just finished reading his book: the Wounded Healer. For me, it is a moment to reflect on our narrative that must be expressed and shared.
Maybe our fragmented life experiences combined with our sense of urgency do not allow for a “handbook for ministers.” …After all, attempts to articulate the predicament of modern man, the necessity to articulate the predicament of the minister himself became most important (xvi).
Henri Nouwen, S.J.
