July 17, 2007
It’s a quiet drizzly morning hear at the Lahash office. I love the rain, I think I still consider it God’s blessing – after growing up in a pastoralist society where rain was the result of prayer.
I’m working on carving out one day every month to meditate and pray for my life and work. It’s already tough, and I don’t have kids. But I know I must be still and know God or I will end up old with the sands of unimportant accomplishments dripping through my fingers while lying on my bed with a tired heart. I need to be animated by a force outside my own busyness.
The stereo in our green car broke. I spilled chai on the dash one road-trip, and it decided to stop working. So on the way to work, it was very quiet. No podcasts, no hiphop, no audiobooks, no 365 tunes to make me laugh. Just silence.
The pastor of the church where we house our offices has a note on his door – “Silence is not Absence, but Presence.” Very beautiful words.
