There are days when the body feels too much the weight of the world’s anguish. The cup of tears is full and the heart is saturated with concerns that only time and trusting can heal. The harried world might tell us to busy ourselves, to push through, to let go.
But deeper, much deeper, a voice invites us to stay still, to move in closer and pay attention. We are wise to be present with our faces turned upward toward the pouring rain, and cup that which pours forth. We are privileged to grow sopping wet in the flood of concerns, to honor their purposes, and if we are patient enough, to witness their misty assent toward all that is holy, and gracious, and good.
Our souls bear much that we might fully and truly love one another.
Perhaps this is all there is, and perhaps this is the primal reason to rest in what is.
But deeper, much deeper, a voice invites us to stay still, to move in closer and pay attention. We are wise to be present with our faces turned upward toward the pouring rain, and cup that which pours forth. We are privileged to grow sopping wet in the flood of concerns, to honor their purposes, and if we are patient enough, to witness their misty assent toward all that is holy, and gracious, and good.
Our souls bear much that we might fully and truly love one another.
Perhaps this is all there is, and perhaps this is the primal reason to rest in what is.
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