Waiting

It's such a relief to know that Mordor is in the past, that I no longer have to hide in the dark corners of Gorgoroth. The struggle to the Cracks of Doom is over. I will never forget that time, but the memory has faded into shadow. The horror has passed, and I have seen the splendor of Ithilien in springtime.

Rivendell is a lovely place. It's safe. It's pleasant. But it is not home. No matter where this hobbit roams, the road will always lead back to the Shire.

After the journey I've been on, though, I know that home will look very different from the image I hold in my memory. In fact, I already know I'll never see that place again. I am too much changed. No one can face such darkness and treachery and be unchanged.

Still, the waiting, while necessary at times, is a bit tedious. My Facebook profile announces my religious views as "Currently reorganizing my worldview." I was thinking about that yesterday, and I realized I've been reorganizing for three years or so. At least now I have a direction, which I could never seem to find before. Still, I'm not much one for waiting.

I am waiting for The Boy to tie up loose ends so he can move. I am waiting for the day when I can legitimately call myself an Orthodox Christian. (That's my loose end.) I know both of these will create as many challenges as they resolve, but I've already faced death and demons. Life can give me no worse. Not that I imagine myself to be immune. Rather, I finally know who I am, and I know that whatever I may face, I will not face it alone.