The Silence Speaks Volumes

                                        The Silence Speaks volumes

 

 

In the quiet of my room, under the break of dawn, and I listen…to the birds and the stillness wafting about the outside indifferent to the will of God. But not me. Listening is an active sport and I hear from the mouths of those who simply accept it more than they can ever know from me.

 

A bird, a rock and a tree, I wonder what they can possibly know though I know the answer already and still I pose it. What they know is nothing but what they know, the ability to be and be alone. They exist so that I can know them. And that is their beauty. Me? I am a mess of emotions and wanting and it is in this wanting that I want to be something much more similar to a rock, a tree or a bird.

 

I look for simplicity in a world complicated by reason and the wanting, I alone want something more than the day I live in. I long for the day that saves me from this day, the day that might come and somehow save me from this day. But the days keep coming and I am bound by honor and duty to just be still…for this one day.

 

And therein lies the burden. Facing the day, the week, and the month. But then again, therein lies the joy of facing all this time.

 

If I in my weakness am faced with the author of all time, should I be told that it is wasting in fear and trepidation and that he had a way out? Would I take the sovereign Lord up on such an offer?

But of course; who wouldn’t?

 

And so he does provide a way out. In listening to the stillness of the bird, the rock and the tree. He gives morning to the world in an infinite stillness and evening to the same world as a place to rest. From socks to blankets he provides all we need.

 

The birds are lovely I think to myself as I feed the cats. All is well in the early morning and mourning is but a facet of life. I am free to expound on this day and allowed the creative spirit that is particularly mine for this given moment that I am allowed to use for just this one moment.

 

And then- I am quiet, alone and wrapped in the knowledge of creation. Like those socks and blankets, I feel now that I am necessary in whatever capacity I find myself. The lesser the vessel the more it is missed like a fork from a set to the dinner party as opposed to the pan that cooks the bird. You can always make do without the pan, find a solution, but that one fork missing from the set? Travesty.

 

And that is how we look at life each morning as Christians. We seek solutions in the silence and seek silence as the solution. Of course there is coffee or maybe a cup of tea to help us along, but it is there in stillness that we revive from deep slumbers to allow the grace of Christ to prod us on to our final destiny. The bird the rock and the tree just remind us of this.