I’m not ready to be clergy.
I thought I was but I’m not.
It’s back to Egypt for me. I have some things I need to work through. Things I can’t readily put into words yet.
I also need to be more grounded. The times I’m living in are testing me. There’s a menacing edge here that I haven’t felt since the late 60s, though something about it reminds me more of 1914, of distant rumblings of catastrophe getting stronger and stronger. I’m crumbling under the pressure because I’ve seen how bad things can get.
I need to find a strength and courage within myself that is uncommon. Being at the scene of chaos is easy; I can maintain my calm when riots break out around me unexpectedly just fine. The soldier’s instinct that I never really lost takes over and I can analyze the situation with some detachment and retreat or engage as needed. I don’t go looking for chaos but I can deal with it. But keeping hope alive through the long stretches where everyone is waiting for the other shoe to drop is the real act of courage.
Back to Egypt. Back to the heart of madness. Back to find pearls guarded by serpents. I still have so much left to learn.