This morning I walked outside in the winter cold at zero dark thirty and looked up to see a partial moon and a few fragile stars clinging to the night. It struck me that looking up is always the holiest part of my day. I spend so much time looking down, mired in the minutia, pondering problems without the perspective of Power. Looking up reminds me to bow down. It made me think of this post from last year…
I’m not good at the practice of silence and solitude. I like chatter and hustle and bustle because they feel productive.
Silence and solitude, at least from a distance, seem well, lonely and unconstructive. Like waiting for a bus you’re not sure is coming.
However, though it’s not my go-to mode, over the years I’ve grudgingly come to experience great value in the discipline of being alone and quiet with God.
When I look at the account of the first Christmas, it’s not that there wasn’t chaos, confusion, and noise. “The little Lord Jesus, no crying He makes”?? Are you kidding? Continue reading