As I grow older, it gets clearer to me that our goal is to be as quietly radical as the Lord was while on this earth. We need to put our new wine in those new bottles. We need to expect extraordinary things from ourselves and from our institutions.
Oh my goodness, sometimes I am unrecognizable, even to my self. >>KRL<<
This is from an online posting my mother sent to a large circle of friends who explored the role of women in our church. (She dictated, I transcribed to the internet.) Mom was 90 when she wrote those words. Over the previous few years, she had stretched herself in ways that she’d left behind when Dad died, 27 years before. In their partnership, she’d found & developed a strong sense of worth & personal identity, alas tied to Dad. When he died, at 63, so did her confidence in herself.
Never say never, because she began regaining it half way between her 87th & 88th birthdays. Through her own courage, grit & determined actions, Mom dug down deep inside herself, found that woman her Pete loved & nurtured, brought her out into the world for all of us to admire & applaud.