stay with me, remain here with me, watch and pray

This is a bit belated, but significant enough to share.

We had a Taize prayer service at L'Arche Harbor House the Thursday evening before Holy Week.  This was the second Taize service that I've experienced at L'Arche.  This time I managed to be roped into accompanying with the ensemble on the keyboard (my feeble piano skills such as they are these days).

The last song we sang was "Stay with me."  The words are:
Stay with me
Remain here with me
Watch and pray, watch and pray

These were Jesus' words (in the gospels of Matthew and Mark) to the disciples when he went to pray in Gethsemane before he was arrested and eventually crucified.  A very Lenten song.  He asks the disciples, especially a few of them, to stay up, to watch and pray.  The story is that they fall asleep multiple times, until finally he actually gets arrested.

As we had a time of silence to meditate at the end of the service, I found the words calling to me from L'Arche Harbor House.  "Stay with me, remain here with me, watch and pray.  Watch and pray."

A bit of recap of the past few months:  I spent a month at L'Arche Harbor House in Jacksonville, then a month away (at L'Arche Mobile, personal retreat in St. Augustine, and Nashville for United Methodist commissioning interviews), then came back for 2 1/2 more months in Jacksonville before moving in with our founding community at L'Arche Atlanta.

As I was settling into my new room in Greatfull House and getting ready to have my first "on" day - my first day to have core member "buddies" without shadowing another assistant - I found myself mourning the end of my phase of independence, of being ultimately only responsible for myself.

I felt whiny and selfish for not wanting to take on the responsibility I was due.  But as I continued to sit with these squirmy, resistant feelings, I realized that it was not just a resistance to responsibility.  Part of it was the stress of a new set of transitions happening again, all at once - a new room, new responsibilities, an assistant who I'd become friends with leaving the community upon my return (all of this planned, but still difficult), another assistant on vacation upon my return.  This all left me feeling a bit overwhelmed, yes.

To sum it up, the deeper reality was that I was simply weary of transition, of "not-yet-ness".  I realized I'd already been in "not yet" land for 3 1/2 months, and still had 2 1/2 more to go.  And those first 3 1/2 months were "on the go" months.  While staying "on the go" carries its own weariness, I had momentum propelling me forward from place to place.  I think I had expected this last 2 1/2 month stint to be the easiest, the smoothest - 1 place, 1 purpose.  However, the reality of it was more like violently hitting a wall than peacefully slowing down to a reasonable pace.  You mean I've been going-going in order to sit in one more "not yet" place for 2 1/2 more months?  Can I not just move to Atlanta now?  I want to dive in with what I've been preparing to dive into!

Once I identified and let myself feel the resentment, frustration, grief, the stifled and overwhelmed feelings, the weariness - I found myself more willing to respond to the invitation to wait, to be where I am, to receive this time as an even more formative gift than the last few, go-go months.

And then, as I heard the words of the Taize song, it occurred to me that I wasn't being invited to wait just for the sake of waiting (though this might be fruitful).  I was being called to be present to Jesus at L'Arche Harbor House.  Because Jesus is present here, he calls me to "stay...remain here...watch and pray."