Sunday's Silence

I am here, contemplating what silence truly is and what it truly gives us. There is actually no silence in my home, I hear the faint murmurings of music from somewhere, a fan quietly exhausting the bacon smells from the kitchen in harmony. Patterings of busyness from the 12 year old's bedroom, the fridge motor and gusts of wind play along with the computer fan in front of me. But really, this is silence. I have time to contemplate, to think undisturbed. My lovely daughter and her man are home from vacation, from a time away in the sun. They came home to another 'going home' with his grandpa's passing. So sad, yet, somehow, no surprise. Suffering is over, a life well lived. But a man will miss his mentor and friend and solid rock. So today, we grieve with this family.
In silence I contemplate the passing of our winter, slowly but surely giving way to spring. We make plans for the coming months, carefully but expectantly. Careful expectance may be how we have come to live, how we have come to plan- not my will, but Yours. Making plans with care and caution and abandon. We live each day more fully, more carefully- in the sense of, more full of CARE. Having an unexpected illness changes the shape of what one comes to expect. It changes how plans are made and even how they are planned. Each day is precious, to be treasured. Treasures are found in family in unexpected joy for who they are, not what they do- and I am so grateful once again for this lesson learned.
In contemplation and silence, I will once again be filled with gratefulness, which brings joy. Joy comes from that deep sense of knowing that I am well cared for, well loved and can love well. My heart feels full to overflowing and today, I will share this joy, this fullness, worshipping before the Lord together with the Body and in my heart and spirit.
Gratefully yours
Judi