I started this blog in June of 2005.
My subtitle has been “finding my voice.”
I guess at some point I thought that would be over. I thought that struggle was temporary, that someday I’d find my voice, I’d know what I’m doing, and I’d just sing.
Yet that struggle hasn’t gone away. Eight years later it has simply intensified. I’m so different than I was back then when I was barely 30 years old, trying to get through the very beginning of the priesthood process. I’ve lived what feels like a thousand lives since then. I’ve seen so much of life and a shockingly large amount of death. I’ve faced the hardest realities about myself, and I’ve faced riot police on more than one occasion. I’ve been poorer than I’ve ever been before and both sadder and happier than I’ve ever been. I’ve made a lot of friends and lost some and learned some very very hard truths.
Through it all, the search for my voice, or, I suppose, more accurately, the ability to raise my voice without being afraid. I’m always so scared – of what, I don’t know. Of being called a loose cannon. Of not being “nice” or “good.” Of being seen as a problem when I think I’m being prophetic. Of “never working in this town again.” (Not an unfounded fear, by the way – one high profile parish actually refuses to work with me due to my involvement with Occupy.)