I'm sitting in a frightening place.
Not intrisically frightennig, but frightening because of the possibilities.
I arrived back in Steubenville last night, and after sleeping later than I have all summer - to the excessive hour of 9 am - I made my way up The Hill to campus.
The chapel office was dark as I walked in, except for the light in the back, and I was alone as I walked down the relatively short hallway. Made my way to the desk. No, to my desk.
And, for the first time ever, the desk was clear. The bulletin board was empty, save for a artistic rendition of "The Holy Sacrifice of the Mass". But the stone-and-crayon minions were still there, so that brought a certain level of familiarity.
It's terrifying to take my seat at this desk. To allow myself to fully acknowledge that I am now the Student Head of Liturgy. I'm no longer in training. There's not another Student Head to rely on for the answers. It's all on me.
Being a leader is a humbling task, because I have to be able to take charge but also to be willing to admit when I'm wrong. Becuase there are definitely committee members who are more knowledgable about the Mass than I. There are others who are leaders. There are others who have talent. But in order to be a good leader, I must know that I have what it takes. That there was a reason I was chosen.
So off I go to Mass, where I will gain all I need to be successful this year. Ultimately, it's all on Him and my union with Him. He has what it takes, I most certainly do not. He will give me the strength I need to make it through thesis-writing and coordinating Masses with bishops and leading meetings and looking presentable and being myself 110% of the time. And loving all I come in contact with.
There is a possibility of failure. But that's where the challenge comes in. And it's most definitely a challenge I am willing to accept.
Not intrisically frightennig, but frightening because of the possibilities.
I arrived back in Steubenville last night, and after sleeping later than I have all summer - to the excessive hour of 9 am - I made my way up The Hill to campus.
The chapel office was dark as I walked in, except for the light in the back, and I was alone as I walked down the relatively short hallway. Made my way to the desk. No, to my desk.
And, for the first time ever, the desk was clear. The bulletin board was empty, save for a artistic rendition of "The Holy Sacrifice of the Mass". But the stone-and-crayon minions were still there, so that brought a certain level of familiarity.
It's terrifying to take my seat at this desk. To allow myself to fully acknowledge that I am now the Student Head of Liturgy. I'm no longer in training. There's not another Student Head to rely on for the answers. It's all on me.
Being a leader is a humbling task, because I have to be able to take charge but also to be willing to admit when I'm wrong. Becuase there are definitely committee members who are more knowledgable about the Mass than I. There are others who are leaders. There are others who have talent. But in order to be a good leader, I must know that I have what it takes. That there was a reason I was chosen.
So off I go to Mass, where I will gain all I need to be successful this year. Ultimately, it's all on Him and my union with Him. He has what it takes, I most certainly do not. He will give me the strength I need to make it through thesis-writing and coordinating Masses with bishops and leading meetings and looking presentable and being myself 110% of the time. And loving all I come in contact with.
There is a possibility of failure. But that's where the challenge comes in. And it's most definitely a challenge I am willing to accept.