Being Tasoni
I have spent the last two years or so coming to terms with my new life and my new role as the wife of a Coptic Orthodox priest. I remember the darkest moments, but they have become so faint to me now. This blog might be the only record. Even the scars on my heart that I thought were so permanent have faded. Looking back, I can see now God's embrace, His support, His plan. The unknown is so terrifying, but His light illuminates everything.
The very worst moments have now become good memories. I can't believe I am typing that. In the absolute lowest moments, we did the only thing we know to do and relied on God. And the moments passed in peace.
I didn't write about all of those moments. I didn't tell you, dear readers, about the time I thought we would be slaughtered in our beds. Or the time my mother went to the emergency room in critical condition, and I stood with my sisters in fervent prayer as tears drenched their faces ("Merry Christmas!"). Or the time I thought I lost my only two friends forever. Or all the other times.
It has been, without a doubt, an emotional roller coaster. I often felt tested and rarely passed, and yet God was with me through it all. I look back and laugh. Yes, I can laugh! How silly I was to doubt--even for those few hours--that God would care for us. Truly, five sparrows are sold for two copper coins, yet they are not forgotten before God.
So if we were sitting together over a steaming cup of tea, and you asked me if I would do this again, if you asked me whether I would give up my cozy Virginian life for the swamps of this tropical state, if you asked me whether it was worth it all to begin anew and feel so much confusion and pain, I would say, "Yes. Of course."
We didn't dedicate our life to God when we accepted the call to priesthood. We dedicated our lives to Him separately years before. Then we rededicated our lives to Him when we chose to form a family, to marry and serve before Him. And we showed Him again, in our feeble human way, our commitment to His will when we put aside our dreams of a bright future for the reality of a future set afire by His love. Fire burns. Boy, does it ever. But my life, I hope, is not known for stagnancy. I like to stick my heart in the immeasurable heat of the Divine Flame. Like a phoenix, I like to burn down to ashes and rise again in an explosion of color and feathers.
Batter my heart, three person'd God; for, you
As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force, to break, blow, burn and make me new.