Old humble ear. A pathway straight to the heart and no one gives you any credit. They all go for the eye or the tongue or the fingers.
Be patient with the little humble ear, friends. It is a strong lover, fierce and wise.
All around, the strangest things are whispering the name of God. Bad drawings, good songs, pebbles falling back into the ocean, lost footballs, the unexpected jump of a tree, every person that you'll meet, kind and mean.
Of course, we all know this. But it's the forgetting that gets us. This war has been going on a long time.
Don't fret. Cynicism and shame are burned up in the fire of one open and listening heart.
However, I have also learned that listening gets harder and harder the more I commit to doing it. It feels kind of like playing an instrument, skills are bought with sweat, but the best stuff comes after long practice. When I can just let myself go. When I surrender to the absurd hope that all things eventually lead to beauty kissing justice. In front of everyone.
Home.
It can be a long 'eventually'. Longer than the best marriage. Hard, too.
The world is full of stopped up ears. Pray for mercy, listen. It is an abomination to evil that one fragile soul would stop, shift and peer into the underbrush, listening like a kind hunter, for the breath of another fragile soul.
There is music everywhere. Be brave.
Don't fret. Cynicism and shame are burned up in the fire of one open and listening heart.
However, I have also learned that listening gets harder and harder the more I commit to doing it. It feels kind of like playing an instrument, skills are bought with sweat, but the best stuff comes after long practice. When I can just let myself go. When I surrender to the absurd hope that all things eventually lead to beauty kissing justice. In front of everyone.
Home.
It can be a long 'eventually'. Longer than the best marriage. Hard, too.
The world is full of stopped up ears. Pray for mercy, listen. It is an abomination to evil that one fragile soul would stop, shift and peer into the underbrush, listening like a kind hunter, for the breath of another fragile soul.
There is music everywhere. Be brave.
1 comment:
Shannon, reading this post and others of yours is a beautiful gift. I feel something in me sigh with gratitude and ache and hope. Thank you.
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