Stood still

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.

         Bartimaeus cried out,
         “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”
         Jesus stood still.

                  —Mark 10.47, 49

How often he stops.
Stands still.
Waits. Listens. Does nothing.

Gives time
in the tumult of our thought and fear,
the racket of our obligations’ traffic,
to let a small, clear space expand,
a depth open like a well in the noise,
a listening reach like roots through earth,
a stillness rise and stand against our haste.

He lets them pass,
the anxious wind and waves,
until the rock appears,
the voice drowned out
yet never drowned.

Among beggars’ voices
beneath the roar of trains,
only still, only stopped,
can you hear,
and only slowly,
the cry, the word
that even words obscure,
the still, small silence
of God,
vast as the air.

Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light

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