With high up perspective, even a city of 14,160,467 (2014 census) souls can be quiet.

The earth shook, and the skies poured down rain, at the presence of God; You sent a gracious rain, O God, upon your inheritance; you refreshed the land when it was weary. Psalm 68:7

O LORD, I still my soul and make it quiet, like a child upon its mother’s breast; my soul is quieted within me. Psalm 131:2-3

Facebook is full of the early Tucson monsoons, which is the earth-shaking, roaring crash of water being poured down.

  

But let me tell you, Turks know how to do gracious.

The thing about Turkish baths is of course the water. Water being poured bowlful after bowlful, running down, swishing and scrubbing and smoothing off every bit of world-weary dustiness. And bags and bags of bubbles. And more bowls of water.

And the humility thing is an essential element, releasing all control to this large cheerful bosomy woman. Absolutely every sense of a grimy little girl being scoured vigorously yet kindly, even behind the ears. Childlike. At rest, deeply, without, sprawled on a heated marble slab, and within, a quieted soul.

And today’s Joy Dare was about full, as in Open wide your mouth and I will fill it.

 

Deniz loves her Istanbul and wants to share her beautiful country on so many levels. There are the history lessons, as we stand in Gezi Park or in her high school friend’s art gallery or when loud explosions go off at sunset announcing the close of Ramadan, and there are the abundant sights and sounds as we wander up and down and up again sparkling streets and past truly ancient stone walls, but there is also the very tangible and savory open-your-mouth full that we experience as she twinkles through yet another menu selection in yet another favorite restaurant and the waiters fill our table with little white plates of deliciousness. Deliciousness to be lingered over, as we soak in yet another view of the Bosphorus. And me, Miss-Clean-Plate-Club cannot even finish it all, not even one more little bite.

O be our mighty healer still, Lord of life and death;

Restore and strengthen, soothe and bless

With your almighty breath.

On hands that work and eyes that see,

Your healing wisdom pour,

That whole and sick, weak and strong

May praise you evermore.

O LORD, I still my soul and make it quiet.

Thank you.

A holy megaphone.

O LORD, I am not proud; I have no haughty looks. I do not occupy myself with great matters, or with things that are too hard for me. But I still my soul and make it quiet, like a child upon its mother’s breast; my soul is quieted within me. Psalm 131:1–3

My counselor says that my main problem is that I overthink things; my little brain gets spinning but, but, but, but and I spit out tidy logic that overpowers. Arrogance. That’s pretty much the lesson of the last week, calling a spade a spade, that wisdom of the world is earthly, unspiritual, demonic and causes disorder and every evil thing.

While the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, impartial and sincere.  And a harvest of righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace.

And the King James is a little different, Put on therefore, as the elect of God, holy and beloved, bowels of mercies, kindness, humbleness of mind, meekness, longsuffering, which is more than enough vivid and specific imagery to last me all day, meditating on a gut of mercy.

Oh yeah, and I can read James 4 over and over, all day long.

Abba Father, rather than seeking justification let me hunger and thirst after righteousness. With a still soul. Nestled into His love. With all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, Amen.

The mercy that comes thundering O'er the waters of my soul

Do not be afraid, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. You are precious in my eyes because I have honored you and I love you…The mountains may depart, the hills may be shaken, but my love for you will never leave you and my covenant of peace will never be shaken. Isaiah 43:1, 4, Isaiah 54:10

Repent and believe in the gospel, Jesus says. Turn around and believe the good news that we are loved is better than we ever dared hope, and to believe in that good news, to live out of it and toward it, to be in love with that good news, is of all glad things in this world the gladdest thing of all. Amen and come Lord Jesus. Frederick Buechner

It’s funny that in all of this quiet I have no words. Hour after hour I am quiet. I can hear the traffic on Broadway because the back door is open, but other than that, it has been twelve hours and lots of cups of water and nothing else particularly. Just quiet.

God is asking of me, the unworthy, to forget my unworthiness and that of my brothers and dare to advance in the love which has redeemed and renewed us all in God’s likeness. And to laugh, after all, at the preposterous ideas of ‘worthiness.” Thomas Merton

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Snuggling in close.

A broken and contrite heart, O God, You will not despise

But I still my soul and make it quiet, like a child upon its mother’s breast, my soul is quieted within me. Psalm 133:3

Stillness.

This house is absolutely still. No rattling, no rustling. Thick adobe walls.

Well, that is until the refrigerator kicked on its electronic rumble. And the alarm clock which was somehow set on a national disaster siren sound. The kitchen faucet started dripping. And even now, the keyboard is clicking. Pause. Clicking.

And life is full of tugs in all sorts of directions–some practical, some unworthy, and some from the pit of hell itself. And I have a choice.

To still my heart. To make it quiet.

And for this moment in time, the image of the babe on the mother’s breast, satiated and soaking in His love, is very potent. No thoughts about what lies around the curve in the road. No pretenses about being in control or in charge. No “If only I had said this.” At rest.

Choose for yourself this day whom you will serve.

As for me, I will serve the LORD.