A couple of weeks ago, I had the honor of being the guest musician for a conference entitled "Being Whole in the Eyes of God" at Stony Point Center, a retreat center about an hour outside of NYC. This particular event's focus was on how churches can be more welcoming and inclusive of people with disabilities. For me, it was also a reminder that all of us share brokenness, whether it is physical or spiritual or emotional-- and that this brokenness is often where we encounter the presence of God. I know that I encountered God's Spirit in this gathering of friends.
While I was at Stony Point, I visited my favorite spot on their property: a stone labyrinth (see photo). One thing I love about labyrinths is that there is only one way to walk, and even though you can't tell how you'll reach the center, and that the path is windy and seems to sometimes take you further away from the center rather than closer to it, you actually trust that you are moving towards an arrival point-- because if you stay on the path, you do indeed make it to the center. This reminds me of a poem by Denise Levertov that I set back in 2004 for Concentus, a women's choir based in Rochester. The poem, "I learned that her name was Proverb," speaks of how everyone we meet, whether we recognize them or not, lead us into our own labyrinths "towards the time and the unknown place where we shall know what it is to arrive."
Right now I feel like I am in a labyrinth trying to get my sacred music CD out, trying to book tours, trying to have mental and emotional rest. I struggle with trusting that I will reach an arrival point. This is why walking labyrinths is so helpful to me- it is a reminder that all I must do is walk on the path that has been given to me and trust that God is leading me. So simple, yet so hard.
