December 30
“Be still, and know that I am God!” Psalm 46:10
The day after Christmas, sounds of silence echoed throughout the now still rooms. Like the silence in the outside air during a heavy snowfall, before the snow removal begins; quiet, peaceful and calm. A tiny piece of glittered ribbon in the corner speaks of yesterday’s revelry: of wrapping paper and ribbons flying about; of giggles and laughter, and commotion from two and four footed individuals!
Outside with my Maizy, the same. A glimmer of light on the horizon reveals dawn is about to break, but for the moment, stillness. Not a sound. All hushed. Even the birds not roused yet. The air, hanging as if in waiting, our breath held in anticipation . . . of what? Our Lord, Jesus Christ has arrived; His birth celebrated at our Churches and with our families! What is it we are waiting for now?
A little chirp from a bird on a branch above me, and then the noise begins. But it is not the birds. Deep in my soul it is there. Like a pounding heartbeat that can be heard through a stethoscope, rhythmic and steady. The call. The tug. The pull . . . then gratitude . . . then joy! The sound . . . the feeling . . . filling me.
Listen. Listen in the darkness and silence. It is there. Louder and louder still! Our God calling to us in the silence. Calling for us to take a few moments to delight in His blanket of peace and hear the sound of His voice beckoning us toward recognition; toward remembering the precious gifts He has placed within us to be used, expanded upon and shared with each other - simply to be given from one heart to another.
For the sounds we hear in our souls in silence and in the darkness, we thank you, Lord! Help us to listen!
Copyright© 2014 Kathleen A. Matson
“Be still, and know that I am God!” Psalm 46:10
The day after Christmas, sounds of silence echoed throughout the now still rooms. Like the silence in the outside air during a heavy snowfall, before the snow removal begins; quiet, peaceful and calm. A tiny piece of glittered ribbon in the corner speaks of yesterday’s revelry: of wrapping paper and ribbons flying about; of giggles and laughter, and commotion from two and four footed individuals!
Outside with my Maizy, the same. A glimmer of light on the horizon reveals dawn is about to break, but for the moment, stillness. Not a sound. All hushed. Even the birds not roused yet. The air, hanging as if in waiting, our breath held in anticipation . . . of what? Our Lord, Jesus Christ has arrived; His birth celebrated at our Churches and with our families! What is it we are waiting for now?
A little chirp from a bird on a branch above me, and then the noise begins. But it is not the birds. Deep in my soul it is there. Like a pounding heartbeat that can be heard through a stethoscope, rhythmic and steady. The call. The tug. The pull . . . then gratitude . . . then joy! The sound . . . the feeling . . . filling me.
Listen. Listen in the darkness and silence. It is there. Louder and louder still! Our God calling to us in the silence. Calling for us to take a few moments to delight in His blanket of peace and hear the sound of His voice beckoning us toward recognition; toward remembering the precious gifts He has placed within us to be used, expanded upon and shared with each other - simply to be given from one heart to another.
For the sounds we hear in our souls in silence and in the darkness, we thank you, Lord! Help us to listen!
Copyright© 2014 Kathleen A. Matson