Silence

is golden.  And I am bathed in the golden light twixt afternoon and evening--that magical time right before dusk when you just want to hold onto what you had in the day but you know soon there'll be a beautiful sunset and you'll go out, not in a blaze of glory, but in muted flame that softens into dusk. 

Two days ago was my last day at my job.  Strange, it seems tomorrow I'll have to go in and do the same thing I've been doing since I got here, but I won't.  I no longer have to hold onto that reality.  God has given me grace upon grace to stay there and to somehow, finish well.  Halleluiah.  As it often goes, I left with no fanfare or tearful goodbyes and cookie cakes, just several hugs and well-wishes from friends and comrades I wish I could still see every day.  They're the ones who made it special. 

So here I am, in a status-sense back where I started when I got here, but in a spiritual and mental sense so much the better.  God is doing a good work in me, little at a time.  I feel as though I could catch my breath in fear and agitation wishing I could bring on the sunset's colors, but time will bring that cauldron and I'll be here, waiting...

for darkness.  Because "God is in the darkness."  That is what a tour guide once said of the darker parts of the Sienna Duomo before it became lighter and brighter up toward the skylight ceiling.  God is in my future, dark and unseen by me, but known to Him as clearly as everything else.  I do not have to strain to see, but simply take the hand that's offered me.

"In keeping pace or losing ground,
Lost has only to be found
Just as silence waits for sound...
Love can't be lost that's truly found."


--"Found", by Matthew Hall

And so I'll wait for You, as silence waits for sound.