Quo vadis?
June 2009
It’s strange the things that remain with you, the words that somehow ‘stick’ longer than others.
I was deeply touched when I first left last year July by all the spoken encouragements, written wisdoms, big hugs to send me on my way. Out of all these fine farewell messages, there was one which remained permanently with me. One phrase which haunted me, irritated me no end, mystified me, comforted me, and even carried me through it all. I was to recite it countless times in my head, hear it spoken to me again and again, because words, well, they really can follow you around sometimes. Or to be more specific, one particular unanswered question:
Quo vadis? (Where are you going?)
Initially, I was simply annoyed.
WHERE am I going?
Well isn’t it obvious? I’m sitting on a plane with destination ___, I’m on a train to____, walking over towards ____… ‘Where?’ was always an exciting next stop in a flurry of adventure. Sometimes uncertain, often unplanned, but not in any way to be considered too seriously.
Then, there came the more reasonable, sensible, warning edge, to a question which had developed angles all of its own.
Where ARE you going (insert ‘young lady’)?
Do you really think you can survive this on your own? Should you be walking home on this street at this hour of the morning? Can you trust him/her? Always a doubting, boringly dutiful, but sharp retort to my spirit of carelessness. Keeping me grounded when I could so easily have flown into stupidity, and trouble. Keeping me safe.
This followed on to a much more analytical note, one that prodded, jeered and poked its taunts.
Where are YOU going?
What on earth are YOU doing out here? What do YOU think you can achieve? Who are YOU kidding that this will solve anything for you! YOU need to sort yourself out. YOU are going to have to make up your mind. YOUR future awaits… and you certainly are not ready…
No wonder the rampage continued to a more deeply rooted level, swirling around in my unspoken thoughts, in my unanswered soul:
Where are you GOING?
Do you even know what you want out of life? Are you headed in the right direction? Have you lost the guidance to get you there? How much longer can you wander before you finally find your way home? This impossible question cycled and spun its endless and repetitive course, which only maintained that dull ache of dissatisfaction, uncertainty, displacement.
It could have, would have, kept spinning its eternal question mark beyond all sanity, until I was brought to hear this enduring phrase.
One. More. Time.
Much less ferociously, much less maliciously, much less tauntingly. The question was posed once more, in little more than a whisper that I had to still myself completely in to catch even a breath of its meaning, yet all the while comprehending precisely what the reply would be, and overcome all the same.
The simplest of comforts can often save you, and mine was hope. A hope I had tried to bury and discard as irreparable. That God is God, possible to know of, beyond all comprehension accessible to me, knowing of me more deeply than any other. That, somehow, he is My God, and I, too, belong to him.
“Where are you going, Rebecca?
I’m here. Right here. I have been all along…”
It’s amazing what can remain with you, when you may have thought it lay too deep to encounter again. Its unbelievable the way in which grace can overwhelm, and hope can enter in once more.
The answer never is quite what you thought you were looking for, and I will struggle with unanswered questions for a long time to come, but at least I can work on making sure I know where to come home to. A place where I am challenged with only the most important answers that will, hopefully, keep me going on the right track.
A pathway scarred in Mercy. Delved in Grace. Sourced in Love.
(here I go…)
“Build me a home inside your scars, build me a home inside your song. Build me a home inside your open arms, the only place I ever will belong.”
- Jon Foreman -
