Cycles of Newness

These past few weeks in Boston have been the greatest encounter with words than any other period of my life. I could focus on the words, though I have never found healing in analyzing the words thrown at me.

But here is healing. Healing no longer “from” an event, but healing “through” and “in.” Healing with others, we are barely aware. Healing my voice (voice class), healing performance wounds (altar group in chapel), healing church splits (church history; it’s happened since the beginning), healing excommunications (the united spirit of the Church Fathers.

Healing in the Oddest Places
Healing in lunch room talk
Healing in study
Healing in silence
Healing in late night wanders
Healing with Saint Silouan
Healing on the slow walk down red brick after vespers
Healing auf Deustch
Healing on the road to Mordor
Healing in Christ’s hands

I expected healing to be announced, captured with pictures. A shout of purpose by a speaker with a mic to herald the start of seminary. Perhaps I was sleeping. But I have heard more music of late. More song, even my own voice. More harmony.