Thursday, March 24, 2011

Where Quiet Bloggers Go . . .

Someone recently remarked that they had my blog figured out.  She boldly stated, “You blog when you are happy.”  I laughed and wondered how I had left such an impression on one who sits with me in real life and witnesses the beauty, joy, and true happiness I enjoy every day.  As we sipped tea, listened to the girls share their gifts of music, and laughed recounting life’s goodness I tried to explain that I do not go away from the blog to sulk, but rather to think, live, be, and learn.  Sometimes I feel called to share the pages of this life’s journal; sometimes it is enough to simply write in my journal or think or just sit.  Sometimes I am called to be quiet.  Quiet is good.

Sometimes I find my joy
In laughing out loud
Sometimes in quiet. 

Still . . .

I count it all joy.

The following pages of my journal filled from my overflowing pen this morn.  Maybe this will help my friend see that a quiet blog does not mean a disquieted heart.

* * *


These morning hours of quiet, prayer, study, and writing enrich my life like a frame setting off the canvas upon which God/Christ/Spirit paint me . . . my life . . . my message to the world. 

“Essential,” I write, knowing that a day (such as yesterday) without this quiet beginning lacks something vital,  like bread baked without salt (an oversight I commit when baking under hurried or distracted circumstances).  A day without quiet contemplation resembles a salt-less loaf over-risen becoming full of air, splitting at the edges, losing beauty, tasteless, blowsy and frail . . . in short, unsatisfactory to serve.  It falls to bits when the knife comes, rendering it useless save for breadcrumbs; even then it must be dried out to be of any use.  How sad to see a loaf set aside while still fresh and warm and eager to be enjoyed.  Patiently the crumb dries and waits to be ground into meal that will shore up a heartier fare such as ground beef destined to become a succulent loaf – the centerpiece of supper.  The breadcrumb sees her vital role even if she has been hidden away into a new kind of loaf.  Others may not see her, but she is present and presently used.

Proverbial, prophetic, poetic. 

Scripture (Matt. 5:13) calls for salt to season life, to add flavor, to preserve with integrity.  So what of the unseasoned? Unsavory?  God finds use for the salt-less loaves, does He not?  Surely He has taught the housewife all she knows, had He not?  Ground to meal, salted and seasoned, ready for use in a new way she gives to life.

Some disparage my choice to forgo accolades from lectures given in Ivy-ed Halls in favor of hearth-side service.  Where once I dreamed of audiences vast for my excavated treasures, I changed course and followed God’s call like a desert Amma.  In quiet surrounds I pray, read, write, learn, teach, nurture, give, live, love. 

My life exceeds my dreams. 

My loaf of life is seasoned, leavened, baked, and served 
by His recipe.

And it is good . . . 

albeit quiet at times, 
like when I am chewing a big mouthful of Daily Bread.


Tricia said...

I think you blog when you have something to say - happy or not - and that you keep silent here when words would only add more noise.

Blessings, sweet friend. Keep holding tight to Jesus.

Jeannette said...

Quiet is good...salt is good. Thank you!

Laura~peach~ said...

you have a way of thinking, of writing, of being that is so calm and soothing :)
love n hugs and prayers.

Karen Deborah said...