If you follow my blog much at all, you'll know that I've been quiet lately. Too quiet with my written words. Too busy with the tyranny of the urgent and the squeaky wheels and making ends meet while teaching a soul-filling but energy-emptying class each Wednesday night and keeping the daily drama of raising – no… releasing two young women, to a minimum. One of the weeks I was silent was spent fighting influenza and bronchitis (a diagnosis made only after I went to the doctor because I was coughing up blood). It was my body's way of screaming at me to be quiet, not just with my words. A demand to stop and rest. So I did.
The irony of it all is that writing is just about my favorite thing, but it is what gets pushed aside first. It is what patiently waits until my heart and spirit feel like they may explode if I don't write. It is what takes a back seat to all the other more persistent demands. In the long run, however, it is what helps me breathe. So tonight, now late… after working all day outside the home, going to dinner with my husband to celebrate 24 years of marriage, after submitting paperwork for the two disabled adults I am a guardian for and finishing the FAFSA report online (just under the March 15 wire!), I should move on to prepare for my Wednesday night class. Instead, I find it's one of those times I just need to write. Nothing particularly profound to say; perhaps no inspiration to pass on. Just the need to stay true to myself and the One who gives me breath and words. I need to be faithful to use the one talent He has given me, however small it may seem and however tempting it may be sometimes to bury it.
My heart was silenced last week as I heard about the seven Mennonite children in Pennsylvania who died in a house fire. The three year old was able to get out to alert her mom who was milking the cows (while dad delivered milk) that there was smoke and fire. No one got back to the home in time and seven children, ages 7 months to 11 years old, perished. Life, as they know it, will never be the same again. All of our hearts were silenced again on Friday as we witnessed the incredible tragedy in Japan. The earth violently shook and walls of waves cascaded in and as in Pennsylvania, life will never be the same again. "Three Words," a popular feature on a morning tv show, showed 3 children holding up one word each… "Tsunami Of Prayers." I thought that was a poignant summary.
There are a lot of reasons we are silenced. One of my favorites… "Be still, and know that I am God." Sometimes, when we slow down, when we are quiet, when we stop doing and cease speaking, He has the chance to speak to our heart, to encourage our Spirits and to help us know that He is God. Our circumstances may not change and we may not understand the mystery of why things happen as they do, but a deep knowing can blast through the silence and give voice to the things we are learning.
I apologize for the lapses of time between blogs. I hope you will continue to check back, as I continue to find my voice and chart my course. Please know that I love to write and I love it when that writing can encourage you.
Be Blessed My Friends,