This Long and Quiet Night

Near a window, I watch the shortest day slowly surrender its light to this winter solstice. In the settling darkness there is an air of calm, of quiet. I welcome the hushed darkness of this evening. In the quiet I listen for an invitation to bring the ‘stretches of life’ together. To gather the scattered pieces of my life into one place.

This night does not call for judgment. Comforted by the warmth of home and a candle’s glow, this longest winter night calls for compassion, for acceptance.

Before me is all that’s been accomplished and all left undone. In this quiet darkness, there is time to let go, time to rest from the hard work of balancing life’s scattered pieces.

Dusk is now long gone. Looking to the sky the stars fill the darkness with points of light. There in the sky is the promise of light’s return.

I invite you to pause on this night. To welcome these dark hours and honor your work. To feel gratitude for all you have accomplished. To rest, knowing that light will soon return.

convicted by silence

 

Correct with kindness and love
but also with zeal and holy freedom.
If you do not speak out,
if you do not sound the alarm
when it is needed,
you will be justly convicted
by your silence.


Quote: St. Mary Euphrasia
PHOTO: Igor Ovsyannykov

Voices of the rain

I close my eyes and listen to the voices of the rain.

 


Quote: Robin Wall Kimmerer
Photo: Jan Fillem

Gratefulness.org

 

Stillness

“Stillness always amazes me. God rescues me in stillness.”


~Bob Holmes