Posted December 9, 2012
I wrote this in December 2009, and wanted to share it again, here:
I don’t know why peace seems so fragile. Why I can be sitting in the quietness of a morning prayer and by 10 a.m. any sense of that tranquility is shattered. Why, when surrounded by the holy music of this season I can be filled with awe and wonder at the glory, the mystery, but ten minutes later I can be dragged into the mundane and frazzled environment in the crowds around me. I don’t have an answer, beyond our own human weakness and inability to hold the gift of peace that is offered with grace and humility, not only now, but every day, if we will reach out for it. I don’t have an answer, but I keep on. I keep waking, walking, trying, failing, and waking again. And so it goes.
I don’t know where you are right now, in your mind, in your soul. I don’t know what will happen to you when you finish reading this, get up from your computer, and go about your day. And I don’t know what will happen to me. But I hope for you, and for me, that we will slowly begin to understand more of the peace that is beyond the song, beyond the words, beyond what we can hope for. And that bit by bit, we will learn to hold on to that peace in the midst of all of life, and that instead of chaos breaking into the peace, the peace will break into the chaos, and prevail.