the sky was bright with the reflected light of the moon. rainless and quiet, i was able to walk in peace and breathe the clear evening air. i walked for over an hour, neither asia nor i wanting to come back home...
being a hermit sounds rather nice.
finding christ, GOD, in the midst of the busy is hard.
years ago i found my deepest peace at the edge of a cliff, overlooking a private canyon, where i could pray and sing and cry and smoke and breathe ... there is that breathing again, seems to be a necessity.
this was before, of course, before the marriage, the kids, the job, the house, the dogs, the bills, the tasks, the giving...
i think of david, out there with his sheep at night. i wonder if he was a bit like me, someone who, for all intents and purposes looks like a raging extrovert, yet who finds their deepest rest in silence, alone with creation, with GOD.
i wonder if, as he aged and his life was changed and the world was no longer before him but at his very feet, i wonder if he would remember the quiet moments of the past. i wonder if, sometimes, he would sneak out and find a quiet space.
as we gather, we who believe in christ, we say the words and talk the talk and sing the songs, even, but it feels so brief, so much like a whisper on wind... not enough, not nearly enough, for the weight of life.
i'm beginning to grasp the need for sabbath.
being a hermit sounds rather nice.
finding christ, GOD, in the midst of the busy is hard.
years ago i found my deepest peace at the edge of a cliff, overlooking a private canyon, where i could pray and sing and cry and smoke and breathe ... there is that breathing again, seems to be a necessity.
this was before, of course, before the marriage, the kids, the job, the house, the dogs, the bills, the tasks, the giving...
i think of david, out there with his sheep at night. i wonder if he was a bit like me, someone who, for all intents and purposes looks like a raging extrovert, yet who finds their deepest rest in silence, alone with creation, with GOD.
i wonder if, as he aged and his life was changed and the world was no longer before him but at his very feet, i wonder if he would remember the quiet moments of the past. i wonder if, sometimes, he would sneak out and find a quiet space.
as we gather, we who believe in christ, we say the words and talk the talk and sing the songs, even, but it feels so brief, so much like a whisper on wind... not enough, not nearly enough, for the weight of life.
i'm beginning to grasp the need for sabbath.
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