Some of you have probably heard me tell this story before. When I was in grad school, I needed a desk that was large enough to accommodate my way of working, which usually entailed spreading a lot of resources out on a surface, having a good spot for my shiny new electric typewriter (!), all the while leaving room for a coffee cup. A small desk just wouldn’t work. Enter the typical grad student problem—I didn’t have the money for the type of desk I needed and wanted.

A weekend spent touring thrift shops in Nashville turned up a huge old desk, one with a large work surface and an array of good drawers for storage. It was oak, even, solid and not veneer. Some of the drawers creaked, but no real problem. The thoroughly dinged-up top of the desk was a larger problem. In an era when we still frequently wrote with paper and pen, the potholes in the desktop got in the way.  I solved the problem by having a sheet of heavy acrylic cut to fit the desktop, making a smooth surface for writing. Over the years, I slipped more and more quotes underneath the clear top of the desk.

I still collect quotes, although now I store them electronically. Here are a few, with commentary, that are in my mind as the new year opens.

“Beware of destination addiction, a preoccupation with the idea that happiness is the next place, the next job, and with the next partner. Until you give up the idea that happiness is somewhere else, it will never be where you are” (Robert Holden).  Possibility beckons, particularly at this time of year. Many of us are all about making “New Year’s Resolutions,” vowing to make the year that is dawning better in some or several ways than its predecessors. And that’s OK, as long as we remember that our life is here, now, in the place where we are. I recently saw a line that reads “be where your feet are.” The Facebook friend who posted it used it in reference to running, but also pointed out that it’s good advice for life in general. We do need to remember to be where our feet are.

“No ray of sunshine is ever lost, but the green which it awakens into existence needs time to sprout, and it is not always granted for the sower to see the harvest. All work that is worth anything is done in faith,” (Albert Schweitzer). As we make those resolution and reflect on our hopes for the new year, Schweitzer reminds us to be patient. We may not see our hopes and dreams come to fruition as quickly as we would like. Every possibility calls for faith. We are called to do the work, but to do it without attachment to the results.

Many of you know that Rainer Marie Rilke’s Letters to a Young Poet is one of my favorite books. One of my favorite quotes from that book speaks to the same point: “All progress must come from deep within and cannot be pressed or hurried by anything. Everything is gestation and bringing forth. To let each impression and each germ of a feeling come to completion wholly in itself, in the dark, in the inexpressible, the unconscious, beyond reach of ones own intelligence, and await with deep humility and patience the birth-hour of a new clarity…” Our lives evolve at their own pace, and things occur in their own good time. We can facilitate and encourage, at least some of the time, but we usually do no good by forcing. The river, as Fritz Perls reminds us, runs of its own accord; we don’t need to push it.

To embrace possibility is to embrace risk. To reach for the possible, we must let go of our current comfort level, at least to some extent. Linda Ellerbee put it this way: “What I like most about change is that it’s a synonym for hope. If you are taking a risk, what you are really saying is, I believe in tomorrow, and I will be a part of it.” Her words echo those of Thomas Merton: “You do not need to know precisely what is happening, or exactly where it is all going. What you need is to recognize the possibilities and challenges offered by the present moment, and to embrace them with courage, faith and hope.”

As we move into 2019, I offer all of us a brief quote that has stayed with me through many possibilities, some I accepted willingly or even courted, others that have been forced upon on me without my consent. I can’t always live it, but it’s been a guiding light and a sustaining presence: “For all that has been, thanks. To all that shall be, yes” (Dag Hammarskjöld).

~Rev. Julia