My Silence at the Monastery
Early in the morning, with only a few short hours left with my Silence, I rise to find out if I would get a sunrise. But no, it was a foggy day. Disappointment welled up within me but as I peered down the road I realized the fog had an elusive beauty. With each blink of the eye, it changed. And I almost ran to see my Dancing Woman Tree. And there she is, swaying in the morning breeze, dancing with her reflection, hauntingly beautiful. She takes my breathe away.
I linger and watch the fog roll in. I wander down the gravel road and the honeysuckle tickles my nose with it's sweet aroma. Have you ever tasted honeysuckle nectar? I felt like a little girl again as I reached out and caught droplets of nectar on the tip of my tongue. A bountiful breakfast for a girl steeped in silence.
Reading Psalm 145 on my last morning and these words drew me in, "you open wide your hands." When I think of open hands, I think of giving and receiving. I think of letting go and taking up, of loving and being loved. Open hands mean balance, symbiosis ... living in a symbiotic relationship with all living beings. Open hands, going away and coming home.
There's not much time now. But my time with the psalms does not feel complete. So I continue to read through until I reach Psalm 147:15 and the words "Peace on your borders" almost explodes off the page! Wow. How easy it is, to have peace in your center when God resides there. It's the borders, the margins, the edge of my boundaries where peace often alludes me. Out there I am not protected. I am not safe, secure, warm, confident. I do not feel fully loved. I read my verse again, and I read it more fully this time. "God has established peace on your borders." It really isn't up to me to make the peace radiate from my center out into the world. God does this from my simple obedience to seeking peace for my center. And may it be so.
How beautiful ...
are the feet of the messenger
who announces peace. Isaiah 52:7
And may it be so! Amen!
No comments:
Post a Comment