I love those words by St. Benedict. On any given day it reminds me that my most recent stumble into the darkness, or my panic-stricken flailing about, or my failure to have an open posture toward the world is not the end of the story. Always, he says, we begin again.

But recently I've been wishing all the beginning would end. All the new has started getting old. New place, new home, new school, new people, new routine. New everything. I'm starting all over... again.

I've written here before about the phases of moving/upheaval that I have gone through in the past. I think I've officially hit Phase 3 - The Crash/Feeling Lost. My soul (as well as body) is in the process of a reorientation. I'm constantly wondering - Where am I? Who am I? Why am I here? Which drawer has the silverware? Where is classroom is 0015-L? (Although, I have gotten pretty good at rattling off the following in about 6.7 seconds - "Juli Kalbaugh, originally from Minnesota, non-denominational, Master of Divinity, first year, theology and the arts, purple..." Gag me.)

Knowing that I've felt like this before is a good reminder that the dizziness of newness is part of the process, the long process of orienting and reorienting my life toward home.

As I unpacked box upon box of books this evening I stumbled upon a prayer we said in church at the turn of the new year. I had cut it out and kept it. Now, I guess I know why.

We are at another beginning, God. Be with us as we depart.
May our heart be with you, God, on this journey, the pilgrim's way.
Give us open hearts as we step into new places and new relationships.
May our heart be with you, God.
Give us courage to face all that will come in this new year.
May your heart be with us, God.
Help us to live free and walk into the light.
Go with us, God, into all that is new. Be our light.

May I begin again, always.