{"id":22691,"date":"2024-10-17T12:00:00","date_gmt":"2024-10-17T17:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/customwordpresssites.com\/mjb\/?p=22691"},"modified":"2026-02-09T08:28:07","modified_gmt":"2026-02-09T14:28:07","slug":"ripples-of-time-and-democracy","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/customwordpresssites.com\/mjb\/2024\/10\/17\/ripples-of-time-and-democracy\/","title":{"rendered":"Ripples of Time and Democracy"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

I. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

On the lakeshore, I stoop close to the ground studying stones. I am mesmerized by the beauty: the shades of blue, white, red, colors of stones made smooth by their repeated encounters with sand, stones, ice, waves. I place my palms upon the rocks and feel the firmness, the tough texture. Granite. Brick. Limestone. One stone warm. Another cool. Some strangely light and soft. Others heavy. I am in awe of the beauty of every rock. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I feel the expansiveness of time and space, the freedom of solitude of the shore. I desire to reverence the beauty of many small stones collected in one space, to honor the sacredness. I sort stones by color. I decide to make something, like an offering of thanks, a gift to the next guest to the sacred space. I lose track of time as I create a circle of stones, a color wheel, and delight in the joy of creating something beautiful. I sing and pray out loud. I stroll down the shore, slowly picking up rocks, feeling their temperature, firmness, then toss them into the lake, one by one. The ripples expand across the waves.<\/p>\n\n\n

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II.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I am wearing a suit and am looking over the balcony of the glimmering state capitol building. I am in my early 20’s and interning as a lobbyist with the Iowa Catholic Conference. I watch crowds of people swirl through the State House and ponder my experience sharing my passion about human rights and clean energy with elected officials. I am surprised that I felt heard and seen, that my youthful perspective is welcome. I’ve heard others despair about the effectiveness of government, yet I am having a different experience. I believe that faith communities ought to give input on public policy. I am unsure what my future holds, though, and what God is doing with me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I’ll grow increasingly frustrated about the divisions in politics and the Catholic Church and uncertain about my calling. Within a few years, I’ll enter the Franciscan Sisters of Perpetual Adoration and center my passion for systemic change on those within my faith tradition. I’ll give my energy to education, faith formation, retreat leadership, accompaniment, storytelling, community building, and evangelization. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

For twenty years, I’ll participate in democracy, trusting that each effort creates ripples of change. I’ll show up at protests and sign petitions. I’ll call my elected officials. I’ll vote in every election and write about how to vote as a Catholic<\/a>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But, I will begin to doubt if goverment is effective and begin to ponder if democracy is meant to crumble.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

III. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I am enlivened with excitement while I watch Pope Francis’ address to United States along with Catholic high school students in 2015.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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