Less than one week to go.

 We'll soon be crossing the plains

to go 'home' to the reservation;

to re-new relationships and learn new things 

about a place that's familiar
after almost 20 years.

Yet the reservation is a place that still abounds with mysteries;

mysteries which may always remain unknown

to  'wasicu' like us.

1 week from today

we'll be turning away from news 

of espionage, chaos, turmoil and all manner of intrigue

to stand in solidarity with folks 

just trying to get through every day.

That's always the way of the world, isn't it?

Beyond all the headlines,

all the news of human misdeeds
and impending doom,

folks get up every day 

to face their individually specific

yet very universal task

of staying alive 

and living a life that has meaning.  

Those of us who have been going on this trip for almost 20 years
 gave up long ago
trying to define what the pull is;

what keeps drawing us back

year after year.

It's a trip that's unsettling,

often painful

and always beautiful.

I read words a few years ago -

in Scotland of all places -

and don't know who wrote them;

words that struck a chord 

and immediately reminded me of our trips to Rosebud.

Don't hide;

don't run

but rather

discover in the midst of the fragmentation

a new way forward;

a different kind of journey

marked by its fragility,

uncertainty

and lack of definition.

And on that path,

hold hands with those

that even in their brokenness

create a new tomorrow;

 dance at the margins

and see

the face of Christ

where hurt is real

and pain a way of life.

Be touched

in the eye of the storm

aware that tomorrow

may not bring peace.

 

 Impossible, you say;

let me retreat

and find my rest.

What rest, my friend, is possible

in these fragmented times?

We're not looking for rest,

although our souls will be refreshed.

We're not looking for peace

although there will be many peaceful moments.

I can't speak for the others that are going, 
but

I'm eager to be on the road. 

ps: thanks to the reader who identified the source of the writing as
Peter Millar, a deacon at Iona Abbey,
although it's also been attributed
to peace activist, Toyohiko Kagawa.