Well school has been in full force the past couple of months since I have last written. I have decided (today) that I am going to keep up my blog...posting pictures, events, and thoughts that pop up through my life. Maybe you will read them, maybe you wont. maybe they'll be just for me. That's fine. Here is my thought for today:
I'm in the waiting area. You know where husbands (soon to be dads), wives (sadly to be widows) pace back and forth? I've been sitting in the same chair, uncomfortable even at the thought. But I'm not quite sure why I still find myself here. Everyone else seems to be biting their nails for a reason, coming to realize that reason (that they dread), and then weeping for that reason. I don't think I have a reason. I'm just here, waiting. I read Holy the Firm by Annie Dillard to pass the time here. Each line as resolution rang true with the click and ticking of the wall clock:
The works of God made manifest? Do we really need more victims to remind us that we're all victims?...Yes, in fact, we do. We do need reminding, not of what God can do, but of what he cannot do, or will not, which is to catch time in its free fall and stick a nickel's worth of sense into our days. And we need reminding of what time can do, must only do; churn our enormity at random and beat it with God's blessing, into our heads: that we are created, created, sojourners in a land we did not make, a land with no meaning of itself and no meaning we can make for it alone. Who are we to demand explanations of God? (And what monsters of perfection should we be if we did not?) We forget ourselves, picnicking; we forget where we are. there is no such thing as a freak accident...We are most deeply asleep at the switch when we fancy we control any switches at all. We sleep to time's hurdy-gurdy; we wake, if we ever wake, to the silence of God.
I am awake, sitting in the same chair, waiting to hear the silence of God. When will I awake to see the bright blue sky, the leaves turning colors: we are all created.
