Thankful for the Stillness

“Thank me for the conditions that are requiring you to be still”. These are the words of the morning devotional as I sit at sunrise watching the light of this day cast dark shadows of leafless trees across the frozen, brilliant, white earth.  Being a person who practices stillness often these words sounded like music to my ears. Spending one day each week and weeklong silent retreats each year the stillness has become my treasured companion. I am always grateful for the days and weeks of stillness and silence. I am eternally grateful for the expanded consciousness and deep union with Spirit that is mine to experience in the silence. These are indeed my first thought when I read these words. Yet, I know many have other thoughts about being still and being apart.

Truth be told, I listen carefully when people say “I’ve had enough of quarantine” or “I’m so over distancing and masking”. At first glance, it may sound like impatient children not getting their own way. Sitting with their words a little longer I hear that beneath the complaint is the deep human need to connect with the people and to feel part of a community. I understand that feeling. The lovely photos that some sent to place in the pews last March remain a sweet reminder of the dear ones of our spiritual community. Yet, now they have become a sad substitute for your laughter and your love. Imagine saying something you think is funny but you hear no laughter – Awkward!  There is a deeply rooted seed in each of us that binds us to one another. We blossom and grow when we share ourselves together as one people. It is our oneness that calls to our heart and brings forth the desire to gather.  It is that thread of humanity that connects us one with another that causes us to desperately want to be together once again, to hug, to laugh, to dance in the isles, and sing!

Yet, here we are almost a year into the pandemic and we who live in Texas and other parts of the country are sent home one more time - to be still.  We are sent home amidst unprecedented freezing temperatures and snow. We are sent home from our jobs once more to stay and be still. What will you do in the stillness?

I sit in the stillness and listen to the sound of snow falling and icicles forming then slowly melting as they hang from rooftops.  I cannot help but wonder what might emerge from this time of deep freeze, this time of stillness. I listen deeply to hear inspiration and guidance for ways I might be more compassionate, forgiving, grateful, and kind. I listen again for ways to open to ways of thinking and being that perhaps I haven’t considered before. I listen again for assurance and the call to ways I can be more love.
“Thank me for the conditions that require you to be still”. Be still and know (Psalm 46:10). What are you invited to know in the stillness?

Love,
Rev. Karen