by Wendolyn Trozzo
That gap, Lord, between where my feet are and where they need to be. I used to feel a wave of fear when stepping onto the Metro: as I crossed from that safe platform, across the gap, into a vessel, a journey, into motion. Then, I could take that step; now, the train is late and all I see is
It’s not a gap between You and me, Lord; it’s between me and what I should be doing. What is that gap, Lord, between “that thing? I can do it!” and being able to actually start? What is that distance between knowing what matters and being able to begin? Where is that soulspace that finds You in me – the creativity, the passion, the urgency, the care, the sense of a self with power, and joy, and ability? It is hard to even see those things in You now – just that gap. Between me and where I want to be, between You and what we expect of you. I feel it all the time – imposter syndrome between me and my shoulds, and the terror that you, too are imposter – little-g god and the gap.
All I do is mind the gap.
I used to fear when stepping onto the train, but now I fear all the time. Imind the gap, I serve the gap, I measure myself against this great gaping breach. Cracked and broken, the gap is my world, the whole of my vision, my identity as one teetering on an edge above the litter and the third rail.
So send the train, Lord. Give me those moments when your path is right before me, when your
power is there to touch and trust, when I can step forward into that motion that I cannot produce on my own. Send the train so that I can rest in you and in the purposes that I so want to fulfill. Signal to me that you are on your way and that the gap has had its purpose all along.
Let me mind You, O Lord.