“You reached out to touch me, I said oh no, it's too true,You and me, we know too much…” Mark Heard
A time for silence, a time for listening. A bunch of
deciding between. Quiet when we should be loud. Turning up the wrong voices.
Turning off the quiet ones. Some sounds are overwhelming. Shattering glass and
gunfire throw off two-stepping at the Borderline. Sirens in the Sierra and
Santa Monicas. Coming on the heels of mid-term elections and time change. Many voices;
devastating.
Mine should be a loud voice; singing a song of
thanksgiving. Hugging those close. Serving the ones with devastating stories to
tell—we all have a story to tell. Whispering life to those with ears to hear.
Turning backs to dark, hurtful (“hurt people hurt people”) voices; like heroes
covering others in that country bar. We cover our ears.
We whoosh through life. Flesh says shut self into
soundproof shell. Keep it out, keep them out. Humanity says fling open the
windows. Swoosh; wind blows in, life in, air in, breathe in. The wind blows too
strong some days.
The listening is important. The cross calls me to hear the
cries of the world I live in. To help lift burdens; by listening or carrying. The
cacophony is likely to burden. High pitched tension the norm. I must listen to my
soul. Rest as I must. Too often I want escape and insulation. Jesus’ example fleshes
out this tension. Daily serving, teaching, living. To calibrate he climbed
mountains---to hear from his Father. May I know when to lean in, when to lean
out, and how to listen throughout.
