leaving Houston

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Laura, Eli, the dogs and I were neatly packed into Laura's Insight (a car) heading west when we passed the "Leaving Houston City Limit" sign. It was a significant leaving in that we closed on our house, so this time we were really leaving.  I knew it was coming, so I had my camera ready. Laura was driving. I knew the sign was coming, and I knew the moment was coming, yet the picture is still blurry.

For a while I tried to figure out the starting point of the path that led to leaving Houston. I started with more recent events, but then I would remember things further back: Nine years ago, before I went to seminary, I stayed in a beach house in Port Aransas only a few blocks away from the vicarage. Was that the beginning of a journey that led us here? Or, perhaps the trips to Crystal Beach with my parents when I was a boy. Maybe that planted a seed in my heart that has come to fruition. I've stopped trying to look for the beginning of the path, when I look back, there does seem to be a path.

I recently remembered my first Sunday night with the Cathedral Youth. We did a trust fall, where each person took turns falling backwards into the arms of the group. I went last, and they caught me. One of the youth made a face and comment about my stinky sandals that I had been wearing...most the time I was in college in San Marcos. It's funny to think that I am that same person and a different person all at the same time. Part of me is still that recent college graduate who showed up, or fell backwards into the Cathedral community. And I'm the priest who was formed there and at VTS, and St. Patrick's, and St. Mary's, and St. Mark's.

And suddenly I've left Houston. The sign in the picture is a blur, but the experiences are clear. The path I've been on; the path that each of us is on, is not necessarily discernible looking forward. Maybe only a few steps. Maybe more. Looking back though, there does seem to be path that has no beginning. We're just walking, trusting each small fall forward. 

Leaving Houston was a significant step. I didn't know the path was leading here, but I'm thankful that it has, and I'm thankful for all the steps along that path that led me here. A blurry picture may represent my surprise moving forward, but looking back the path is clear.

Comments

  1. SharynOctober 3, 2012 at 11:10 AM

    I was so sad to hear that you were leaving. I hope that--when the time is right-- you will blog about growing up in Silsbee. I grew up in Nederland but I think my most spiritual moments were up in the Piney Woods outside of Warren or south of Woodville (family land).

    Nice start on this blog. I began a new one recently that I call Learning to Watercolor--but that's not what it's really about. Come back and see me there sometime.

    ReplyDelete

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