We are nearing the end of nearly 6 days at our friend's lake house on Lake Koronis near Paynesville, Minnesota. We came here often when we lived in Minnesota for seven years. Back then, with children now in their late 30's and early 40's, I didn't appreciate the early morning stillness on this deck overlooking the dock and rippling lake. This week, this early morning tableau has called to me.
The stillness calls me out in the morning. A stillness I choose to not sully with inattentiveness. To not notice the depth of peace upon this still lake would profane it's offering, and the voice of the One who invites. It would be akin to giving no response to a best friend's wedding invitation. Lack of notice would dismiss the gentle call to celebrate morning.
There is something holy, "other", to stillness offered by created nature; this lake, a forest, snowfall. If you are able, let those moments in those places be remembered. Out of created nature we can hear otherness, holiness, a cosmic echo from Elijah's cave, the gentle whisper.
Awakening mankind mars with the drone of mechanized life; boat, automobile, coffee maker, even the nearly imperceptible hum of a toaster. This activity, marked by noise, subtracts from stillness found in this created silence where we can hear Abba's heart.
An overflying plane captures me with the motor drone. My interrupted attention causes disruption of shalom's silence, pregnant with promise and depth.
Simultaneously, I am fed and hungered in the moment by Him. Grace upon grace with grace-full-ness.
