
With the official school year behind us, “journey” is a prime topic of conversation at CTU.
Our graduates now journey to new homes and new ministries. Our current students and faculty, whether they journey to summer work or rest, welcome the opportunity to break outside of the typical routine. And while our staff keeps the lights on at CTU in the summer months, talk of the upcoming event or vacation infuses us with some renewed energy.
Although, admittedly, my next three weekends feel pretty exhausting, with trips to help my sister move into her first home, as well as to attend my little brother’s graduation, an ordination of a fellow CTU grad, and the wedding shower of a long-time friend. Yes, that was four trips, and three weekends!!!
Like our graduates, each of these friends/ family members (the line blurs) embarks on his or her own journey. For some, it will signal a physical relocation, taking them to places and situations altogether unfamiliar. For others, it will mean a deepening of roots and commitment to an existing place or way of life. For each, it is an invitation to further the journey within, to know oneself better, and in so doing, to better know the One who created us.
So whether we have a grand road trip planned this summer, a “staycation” is more in order, or…we work harder this time of year than all others, know that there is still a road beckoning.
A friend recently shared this poem with me…I resonated quite a bit with it, as it addresses the sort of journey I had to make to get to CTU--the sort of journey, in one way or another, we will all eventually get asked to make. Probably more than once.
Where are you headed this summer?
============
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice --
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do --
determined to save
the only life you could save.
~ Mary Oliver ~
Angela Paviglianiti | Director of Admissions | angelap@ctu.edu