Cameron always kicked off his shoes before he led us into worship.

Desert

Disentanglement

Shake loose all that binds and chokes

Fly free, O my soul.

For God alone my soul in silence waits; truly, my hope is in Him.  Psalm 62:6

Let all mortal flesh keep silence, and with fear and trembling stand;

Ponder nothing earthly minded, For with blessing is His hand,

Christ our God to earth descendeth, Our full homage to demand.

The soul that is attached to anything, however much good there may be in it, will not arrive at the liberty of divine union. For whether it be a strong wire rope or a slender and delicate thread that holds the bird, it matters not, if it really holds it fast, for until the cord be broken, the bird cannot fly.  -John of the Cross

Today in the silence as I sift through the Eucharist-always-precedes-the-miracle lists, what I am reminded of again and again is that there is no random thread with the Master Weaver.

Tuesday we had a “Make and Take” meeting in the Bonillas library, complete with hot chocolate and warm cookies. The plan was to provide parents with a dozen activities to do with the kiddos over the holidays, and it was more or less successful.

One of the projects was weaving a God’s Eye from yarn and popsicle sticks. And the art teacher and I had sort of forgotten exactly how to do this blast-from-the-past relic that hangs from so many Christmas trees. So there was some awkward twisting and winding and pretty much I was the only one in the room who could knot the ends of yarn, but when each eye was flipped over, it all made beautiful sense and the backside bumps did not matter at all.

And Dustin wrote another piece today reflecting on the year of journey.

That said, we visited the caves and pagodas of Danang’s Marble Mountains yesterday and DUUUUUDDDEEE it was incredible. We wandered up polished steps to a temple, scrambled through caves to reach mountaintop views of the humidity-drenched city, and saw a ton of Buddha statues. Everette immediately noticed Korean women removing their shoes, approaching a statue, and repeatedly bowing before Mr. Buddha (astute observer that she is) and so she immediately also began reverently removing her knock-off Crocs and lying prostrate on the marble floors herself. 

And that is something that the all His peoples get, the need to prostrate fall. I remember Cameron always kicking off his shoes before he led us into worship.

When my chimes went off last night and Dre asked about them, I did not do a good job articulating my intent. A reminder to exhale deeply all of me, and breathe in deeply all of Him.

May I too kick off my figurative Crocs.

Again and again, if need be.

Selah.

Wrapped around my wrists.

O Lord, make me know my end
    and what is the measure of my days;
    let me know how fleeting I am!
Behold, you have made my days a few handbreadths,
    and my lifetime is as nothing before you.
Surely all mankind stands as a mere breath! Selah
    Surely a man goes about as a shadow! Psalm 39:4-6

So commit yourselves wholeheartedly to these words of mine. Tie them to your hands and wear them on your forehead as reminders. Deuteronomy 11:18

But Peter and the apostles answered, “We must obey God rather than men.” Acts 5:29

The first step of humility is to cherish at all times the sense of awe with which we should turn to God. –Benedict of Nursia

For God alone my soul in silence waits; truly, my hope is in Him.  Psalm 62:6

Sue the prayer warrior and I sat on her back patio with bowls of cereal and granola heaped with fresh fruits. A perfectly crafted elegant bespeaking-of-royalty quail hopped along the back wall standing between our rocking chairs and the soaring Catalinas.

Cherish the sense of awe with which we should turn to God.

Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?

And yet we are but a mere breath before Him.

It is a joy to just set with Sue. The so very many cares of this world seamlessly roll into prayers, laying down our burdens at the feet of His outstretched arms.

Unconditional love that stops at nothing to bring restoration to the wayfaring stranger that is each of us. As it was in the beginning, is now and will be forever. Amen.

Amen.

And as we moved along her daily prayer walk winding through the foothills, we paused on a hill that overlooked the city. This is where she pauses every morning to lift up this city and her people, her leaders. The leaders of our state, our country, our world. Our big fat crazy messy beloved world.

Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

So as I continue to consider the prayers of Jesus, I am struck by “Not my will, but Yours, be done.”

Dear LORD God, today as I walk the path of a wayfaring stranger, may I pause and listen to Your voice, Your will, and may I obey. May I as my first step turn to You before I think or say or do.

Speak LORD, for your servant is listening.  

Be still my soul; the LORD is on thy side.

For God alone my soul in silence waits; truly, my hope is in Him. Psalm 62:6

Truly.

And in every which way possible, I am a chatty person. Not in the good sense.

One of those sorts of people who always raises her hand first with my answer or especially blurts out my answer while everyone else is processing.  Before my brain and heart even engage.

In conversations I have to pause, take a deep breath, and choose to listen rather than let my mind gallop on ahead to where I am going next.

And oh, those imaginary conversations that hamster wheel around in my head, spinning and spinning into empty anxiety.

But the heart of the call here deals with my stepping into the Throne room of grace, standing before my LORD God in full bore prattle.

Full of excuses. Accusations. Murmuring. Suggestions as to how He could be doing a better job. 

Be still.

Take off your shoes and fall on your face, for I AM Holy.

Be still.

In silence wait.

Stand back and you will be amazed. 

The lament of the seagulls echoes off the cliffs.

For God alone my soul in silence waits; truly, my hope is in Him. Psalm 62:6

Sunset in Santorini

Prayer is the soul’s sincere desire,

Unuttered or expressed,

The motion of a hidden fire

That trembles in the breast.

The upward glancing of an eye,

When none but God is near. 

-James Montgomery

The will of God is not a 'fate' to which we submit but a creative act in our life producing something absolutely new . . . something hitherto unforeseen by the laws and established patterns. Our cooperation (seeking first the Kingdom of God) consists not solely in conforming to laws but in opening our wills out to this creative act which must be retrieved in and by us. –Thomas Merton

Strawberry moon just before sunrise

He that planted the ear, does He not hear? He that formed the eye, does He not see? He who admonishes the nations, will not punish? He who teaches all the world, has He no knowledge? The LORD knows our human thoughts: how like a puff of wind they are. Happy are they whom You instruct, O LORD! whom You teach out of Your law. Psalm 94:9-13

Let my heart be full of Your praise and Your glory all the day long. Psalm 71:8, revised by Christy

And NPR just clicked on, once again.

For God alone my soul in silence waits. Psalm 62:6

Silence.

It is never silent at the Voelkel home.

But if I am still and listen very carefully, I can hear the murmur of the rooftop heater.

Because Dustin right away rode his bicycle over after dropping off E. at school yesterday. And when I asked my brother Scott who knows stuff like this for a recommendation, he said that Dustin is the best furnace man in Tucson. And that first sentence has a lot of prepositions and adverbs.

Thank you.

And this morning while my coffee was getting ready to bubble, I replaced the burned-out strand of living room white twinkly lights. I went to three stores yesterday and only found barren shelves. But Alan went to Home Depot last night to return a barely used pipe wrench and bought me a box of 150 bulbs last night. And some white flowers that he put in a vase.

Thank you.

And Elizabeth sewed Manuel’s stocking together yesterday while I worked on Adam’s. And I am pretty sure she has never done this before but she fitted red, green and white like an Italian flag across the top and there is the coolest fringe icicling down, and now it is hung up with the rest of them, by the chimney with care.

Thank you.

And Nicole dug into her storehouses of fabrics and yarns and beads and cut open a bracelet to pour off colored beads to use as baubles on the felt Christmas tree I was stitching. And she volunteered to go pick up a Brooklyn Pizza for me because I was pretty tired but it was okay because I already had a chicken in the crockpot.

Thank you.

And Dre and Adam came over for dinner Thursday night and we ate pork loin simmered in leftover mulled drink and chopped cabbage and crisped tortillas and I opened an early gift from her: three canvased paintings of her three favorite memories with her momma. A quiet conversation of hope at next door Falora’s over black potato and date pizza drizzled with truffle oil and a free bottle of Chianti because we brought over Jefferson Starship to spin on his record player, a magnolia from our road trip visiting kinfolk south of the Mason-Dixon line where we ate dinner with Uncle Bill and Emmy at The Bell Meade Country Club, met with Ellen on a Caney Fork boat dock, just down the river from the boys camp, wended through the very Great Smokey mountains and read handwritten letters from my cousin dying of AIDS in an ‘80s isolation which was a pretty lonely place to be. And under the Brooklyn Bridge. We went for a lot of walks along that Brooklyn Bridge pathway and she also took me to see the Donmar Warehouse presentation of Julius Caesar; Dre bought my ticket so Cesar was stabbed twenty-three times in my rather surprised lap.

Thank you.

And if I listen very carefully, I can hear the murmur of His love.

And last night I fell asleep once again during the movie on the wall. Surprise. But Alan and Manuel and Daniel and Elizabeth made lots of popcorn in the old aluminum pot and watched the Grinch Who Stole Christmas. And the opening scenes are filled with Seuss-creatures elbowing and poking and scrambling and reaching and grabbing to the tune of Jingle Bells blaring in the background. And it reminded me how tired I was so I went to sleep thinking of to do lists and moving the couches and cleaning out cupboards so there is more room to store stuff and oh yes we are doing a face painting and Christmas carols at the refugee apartments at two. And I have a lot to get done before then.

However, if I listen very carefully, I can hear the murmur of His love.

And Daniel just yawned and stretched his way into the living room and is sitting on the couch staring at the empty fireplace because Manuel scooped out all the ashes last night. He has one more presentation before the semester’s end and we all listened to his powerpoint presentation last night because he gets nervous. And Jack and Pippen just delivered the morning headlines about the U of A football game.

And if I listen very carefully, I can hear the murmur of His love.

Be still.

My soul waits for the Lord.

Lord God, almighty and everlasting Father, you have brought me in safety to this new day: Preserve me with your mighty power, that I may not fall into sin, nor be overcome by adversity; and in all I do direct me to the fulfilling of your purpose; through Jesus Christ my Lord. Amen.

Your purpose; through Jesus Christ my Lord.

Amen.