Thursday, February 03, 2022

Spiritual Journey Thursday: Heart

It's February already, and our SJT theme for February is "Heart." Linda Mitchell is hosting. Thanks, Linda! (Be sure to go check out what everyone else is writing today.)

 

The 2019 version of me posted this meditation on having an undivided heart, quoting the 2011 version of me. I'm not sure the 2022 version of me has much to add. I'm learning new lessons about tending my heart in a new place, without the trappings of my previous life, as my husband and I moved to a new country last month. I'm learning the new lessons, but I certainly haven't learned them yet.

 

Linda asks us "Where is your heart on this spiritual journey we all are on?" I think my heart is in a figuring it out mode. 

 

A metaphor I've been thinking about is my classroom in Haiti. It was my domain, a place where I'd worked for 15 years. My handwriting was on the white board, my curriculum in the files, my fingerprints on everything. I had Sharpies in every color and I knew right where they were. I had my books on the shelves and my bulletin board borders in the cupboard. 

 

Now I don't have a classroom yet. We're teaching online, and when we go back to school on Monday, the kids will stay put and the teachers will circulate. My handwriting isn't anywhere, except in my notebook and on the yellow legal pad sheets where I write the kids' names in a list every day, trying to learn them and take attendance at the same time. I couldn't locate a Sharpie if my life depended on it, in any color. My books - well, let's not talk about that too much, because I might cry. I do have a few here, but so many of them are given away, or else back on those shelves in Haiti for my replacement. 


And there you have it: my heart. From a place of belonging to a place of not-quite-there-yet. Figuring it out. Finding my way. 


But what hasn't changed, I remind myself, is that I am beloved by God. My heart is a dwelling place for Him. I'm not figuring anything out alone.

9 comments:

Karen Eastlund said...

Ruth... as always, my heart goes out to you. You are a model of courage. Many blessings to you, and... I wonder... could I send you some books? I have a collection that needs winnowing.

Maureen said...

I totally agree - you are not figuring things out alone. And in the midst of the upheaval, the confusing transition of moving, you know you are blessed - it exudes from your post. Best wishes through this 'figuring it out' stage! Thank you for sharing this post!

Ruth Ayres said...

What a lovely last line. I am fascinated by the way you allow the past versions of yourself to reappear and reflect with your current self. Thank you for sharing the way we are always in a constant state of change.
Shine on, Ruth

Linda Mitchell said...

Ruth, your heart is holding so much. My goodness...those sharpies are a metaphor. I know how much a middle-schooler LOVES a sharpie. I hope, when you're ready, you will share a way for us to send you some care packages? I would love to do that. You inspire me.

Ruth said...

Thanks for the kind words, everyone! It's hard to get packages here, and there are often customs charges. Maybe we'll figure something out eventually.

Fran Haley said...

It strikes me while reading this, Ruth, how much your classroom becomes the heart of your dailt life. How blessed are your students. And - God provides!

Ramona said...

Ruth, your words always uplift me. Here's to heart-tending in your new home as you provide a dwelling place for Him.

Chris Margocs said...

Oh, the pieces of heart left behind when we leave a place we've loved! I can sense the grieving in this post, living alongside the hope and certainty. My heart has been in that in-between place so many times as a child, moving with my Army family. Thank you for sharing this vulnerable place with us.

Carol Varsalona said...

Ruth, you are not figuring out anything alone. What a beautiful thought that God is always with us, guiding and speaking to us. You left a beloved classroom to find new young minds to teach in a new country. I admire your ability to shift, to let your heart journey on, and to do so with faith. Peace be with you and your husband.