It is midweek and I have not yet made it to my writing desk. I have, instead, leaned in to a sanctuary of another kind—a gift brought by an unlikely giver.
I see that world keeps moving, even when I step out for a time. Things still get done, and disaster doesn’t befall us. I am not the centre, as I sometimes fool myself into thinking that I am. It seems I need to be reminded of this again and again.
I read about a man who goes away for a week of solitude and silence at the start of a new year, and I think about the wisdom and blessing of that intentional choice. I think that I would like to try it.
Day begins. There is more that I would like to say, but time is short this morning. Even as I tap out the words for that last sentence, it occurs that it captures the essence of my remaining days. Time is relatively short, and listening is more important than speaking.
Great message, Linda. You say you haven’t made it to your writing desk, and I know what you mean. Nevertheless, here you are! Blessings as you recover.