The silence is deafening

Thou hast known my soul.  Psalm 31:7

To be known.  Truly.  To the depth of the soul.  The broken communication patterns set first in the garden instigated by the sly whispers of the Evil One continue today.  How to smash through faulty perceptions, crooked judgments, rotted memories into love?  All of the good intentions in the world trip and stumble into hurt silences and “you always.”  

Judge not lest ye be judged.  Forgive and it shall be forgiven.

The quality of mercy is not strain'd,

It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven

Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest;

It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:

It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,

It is an attribute to God himself;

God Himself.  Knows.  And in this knowing He shows mercy and grace and forgiveness.  And it is only as I disentangle from self that I can know as He knows.  Both myself and the other.  And extend His mercy and grace and forgiveness.  From Him, His Spirit through me His child. Gentle rain from heaven.

And in the quiet stillness of heaps and heaps of piled-up Vermont snow there is a peace.  Silence.  White laced forest criss-crosses in all directions.  White upon white, the earth blends seamlessly into the sky.  And in this hushed world I am known.  

Be still and know that I am God. 

May the flaming hell-fire voice be quenched in this deep comfort of calm, and may I respond to this knowing. To know Him.  And His.  With mercy and grace and forgiveness.  Unstrained. From Heaven.