we carry too much

... and you'd carry that, all you deserve.
never entitled to arms or holding close.
growing up beautiful is more than it seemed.

I spent some time on one of British Columbia's gulf islands this past weekend, a place called "Pender Island" an hour or so ferry ride from Victoria and greater Vancouver.

I came home and someone told me that at a Starfield/ Shane & Shane/ Bethany Dillon concert, here in Abbotsford, a 25 by 25 foot section of flooring collapsed, and 80ish people fell 5 meters into the basement. 40 people were injured though only one person was seriously injured.

I was really shaken by this at first, being a youth worker. I was supposed to be at this concert, but instead I was traveling to a youth retreat. I know there is some profound thing I am supposed to capture in all of this, some connection to be made, but I'm struggling to make that connection.

The first image that came to mind when I heard about this was youth workers at the concert rushing to the scene of the collapse, offering help, coming together. The next image was youth workers calling each other the next day, seeing which kids were hurt. And this, I think, is the heart of youth ministry- caring. I started to feel a compulsion to make calls myself, to hear stories and to be involved.

Though, I took a step back. The last thing I want to be is a band-wagoner, jumping in on some pity party. I do want to offer my sincere concern, but I also don't want to press an issue to much. Thus is life.

So, I'm back to my awkward stage of waiting to see wether or not I have a job, again. Next weekend I'm going to another retreat in the interior of BC somewhere, I have no idea. I hope to get some woods time, away from commitments and youth work for a couple days. I still have a lot of hurt to get through from this past semester- the hard stuff we have to carry in the mess of being real, living intentionally, learning the odds and ends of self respect.

Am I just sounding crazy here? I watched the "Return of the King" on friday, and in the end of the film frodo (I really hope I don't sound like a nerd) talked about the hurt that he still had from carrying the ring, even after it was gone from his life.

I think living life itself can feel like that. Even after we have come through the hard times we still carry the weight of that experience, almost to remind ourselves to keep learning. just a thought. comment if you want to help me finish that thought. I would be grateful.

Anyway, I owe you some pictures. I'll have a couple posts on "Art is for Birds" up this next week, I promise.

Later.

~

And thus it was. A fourth age of middle-earth began. And the fellowship of the ring, though eternally bound by friendship and love, was ended. Thirteen months to the day since Gandalf sent us on our long journey we found ourselves looking upon a familiar sight. We were home. How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on, when in your heart you begin to understand there is no going back? There are somethings that time cannot mend, some hurts that go too deep that have taken hold. Bilbo once told me his part in this tale would end, that each of us must come and go in the telling. Bilbo's story was now over. There would be no more journeys for him, save one. My dear Sam. You cannot always be torn in two. You will have to be one and whole for many years. You have so much to enjoy and to be and to do. Your part in the story will go on.

- frodo, return of the king.