Coming before God in quietness and waiting upon Him in silence often can accomplish more than days of feverish activity.
-A. W. Tozer
“To respect a mystery is to make way for the answer.”
~ Criss Jami
On God’s priorities, the prophet Amos wrote:
Take away from Me the noise of your songs;
I will not even listen to the sound of your harps.
But let justice roll down like waters
And righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.
(Amos 5: 23, 24 NASB)
If you wait at wisdom’s doorway,
longing to hear a word for every day,
joy will break forth within you as you listen for what I’ll say.
For the fountain of life pours into you every time that you find me,
and this is the secret of growing in the delight
and the favor of the Lord.
(Proverbs 8: 34,35 TPT)
Resting in the Lord is waiting until we hear the Voice that speaks in stillness whisper, “It’s okay. I’ve got you. It’s going to be alright.”
November twilight. The sun disappeared behind the hills by 4:45 in the afternoon today.
Haze from controlled burns faded distant colours. Now is the time to clear debris when the risk of forest fire is low.
Nearly all the birds have left the sanctuary. Only the crows remain, singing like an enthusiastic unpaid third-rate band willing to work for exposure.
Snow briefly gave a preview of winter’s intent, then melted in the sun. Some still hides in the shade.
Thin ice covers Elizabeth Lake like a sugary crème brûlée crust. A foot would easily break through and the mud underneath the shallow water is still soft enough to capture a shoe. On the water’s edge, kids smash the surface with sticks to see how far cracks will travel. Most of their make-believe spears pierce the ice and get stuck in the mud. Someone hollers that his feet are wet. He runs home.
And then, before the sky is even dark, the moon glows in anticipation of its watch.
It feels like the sun is giving up on the day too soon. It’s hard to watch the ending of growing season full of colour and life, but there is still beauty in nature at rest — a subtler beauty, but still beauty.
Thank you, Lord, for every sunset because every sunset brings the promise of sunrise.
Who shuts his hand has lost his gold,
Who opens it hath it twice told.