Recently I have lacked words. They seem to be so far from me. Somehow, somewhere I have stopped thinking words. Words feel insufficent. I have also stopped praying in words. My conversations with God have moved away from the spoken, from the thought and into a place of depth of emotion, of great feeling. My prayers have become the act of lifting myself, my feelings, fears, desires, hopes, dreams, of taking my state of being and lifting that to God. I feel more drawn into a mystery than anything else. Like the moment at communion where the host is lifted up, Christ present, Christ given, Christ broken. Words cannot describe the depth of that moment, the way it touches the soul cannot be put into words. The giving of salvation, redemption, the gift of grace manifest as the presence of God is more visible than anything else. My heart feels like it will burst within my chest at the anticipation of heaven. How can I wait another moment to be with the one who I love more than any lover, and who loves me the same?
Then, slowly, I fall to earth, I fall back into the pain of what is now. I am drawn away from the mystery, forgetting the beauty and love and stillness. I lack the strength to stay in that place. The pain ever more real.
Maybe it is time to be silent. To learn stillness.
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