Quiet

Orchids

In the Presence of Peace…

In the Gospel passage for the Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Jesus’s disciples reach out to him as the boat they are in is taking on water in the middle of a storm. Jesus says to the wind and the raging sea, “Quiet! Be Still!” and just like that, the storm settles down. This is something he could have done without saying any words, but Jesus, always the teacher, gives his disciples, and us, both an example to follow and words to ponder.

After quieting the storm, Jesus asks his disciples, “Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?” He is not reprimanding them or trying to make them feel bad, but rather he is asking them to reflect on the situation, and trying to help them to know, and to remember, that he is there with them and for them, and so, there is nothing to fear. Without Jesus, the storm can rage on, whether loud and brash or quiet and discreet. It is Jesus’s presence that both quells the storm and brings peace into the quiet and stillness.

Orchids

On that day, as evening drew on, Jesus said to his disciples:
“Let us cross to the other side.”
Leaving the crowd, they took Jesus with them in the boat just as he was.
And other boats were with him.
A violent squall came up and waves were breaking over the boat,
so that it was already filling up.
Jesus was in the stern, asleep on a cushion.
They woke him and said to him,
“Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?”
He woke up,
rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Quiet! Be still!”
The wind ceased and there was great calm.
Then he asked them, “Why are you terrified?
Do you not yet have faith?”
They were filled with great awe and said to one another,
“Who then is this whom even wind and sea obey?” – Mark 4:35-41

What Night Reveals…

Heading steadily toward the longest night (or the shortest day) in the Northern Hemisphere, I am struck by the way this time of year brings with it not only a greater period of darkness in the sky, but also greater opportunities to see and experience things that might otherwise seem minuscule or entirely escape our attention.  Every year when the light of day starts to take its leave at times earlier and earlier in the day, and we move closer toward the Winter Solstice, there is a period of adjustment, and perhaps, even a decrease in the amount of time spent venturing out and operating at “day time” speed.

When day light and the business that accompanies it begin to fade away, it can seem like time is running out. In the midst of the challenges that may come with that, the darkness also tends to bring with it the perfect backdrop. It can seem like there is less time to accomplish the things we need to do. However, these days of darkness can actually help to create more time for things of greater importance… for that which is truly beneficial to us, and the world around us.

“If a man wishes to be sure of the road he’s traveling on, then he must close his eyes and travel in the dark.” – St. John of the Cross

Night and darkness, in a sense, slow time down, providing space and calling us into the quiet. Deep within this space, there awaits a gift to be seen or sensed.  Grace waits to show us the way. It is of no coincidence that it seems the stars shine their brightest during the shortest days of the year.  Gently, they remind us, that even in the darkest hours, “The Lord will be your light forever” (Isaiah 60).

Moon

Waiting to Arrive…

Looking out at the thin ice in the quiet stillness of early morning, I think, “How fragile life is.” As I sit and watch, I feel tired… stretched thin. Until this moment, it has been so busy… too busy.

I survey the area. It seems motionless. I think, “The time is now.” Everyone…everything must wait.

While time continues to tick, I linger, allowing more than just a chance to be still and listen. With each minute that passes, I feel a calm and steady strength growing from deep within. How resilient Life is.

ThinIce

My eyes are ever upon the LORD, who frees my feet from the snare. – Psalm 25:15

Waiting for the Sun…

As the waves approached the shore, the sky grew lighter with each minute, casting out the darkness of night. Then far out on the water’s edge, a speck of light appeared. It steadily grew bigger and brighter as the sun made its way over the horizon, coming into full view. At last, there it was, in time and in all its glory, and there I was, in time and in all my glory… all by the grace of God.

I had been reluctant to sit in the dark, and had hemmed and hawed over whether or not to get up and go out. But now… what an inspiration to have witnessed the transformation as the light completely overcame the darkness that preceded it. How vastly different the experience would have been, had the darkness driven out my desire and extinguished any efforts to see the light and in the process the beauty of creation.

So many gifts! How precious and sacred creation, and the gifts of time and presence are. Life depends upon them. Oftentimes what one person may see or experience another may not. Yet, in time, the Truth is always revealed, and God’s presence made known, when we are ready and in the proper space to receive them—a willing participant so to speak.

Throughout the Gospels, Jesus is asked many times for signs to prove that he is Emmanuel (God with us). In today’s world, there seems to be so much darkness, and we, like the crowd, also seek signs. Oftentimes we may not see any, but nonetheless the signs are many and ever-present. When we stop, let go, and look around, they begin to appear; often in that which we may be taking for granted. For example, the sun rises each morning. In fact, the sun is always shining on some part of the earth, and is even there when covered by the clouds. We do not put it there or control it, yet every day it is present—and seen at the appointed time.

Sometimes, it is only through facing the risk, being in the quiet darkness, that we can truly see the Light.

SunRise