I suppose I’ve been successful with incremental approached to life. I do things one step at a time, but fall over my feet when trying to do too many things. For gardening, I mapped my garden out. At the same time, I get scared about the great amount of space to tackle, but am helped by a couple of workshops, where I compare notes with more experienced gardeners. What I’m finding is that I’m not alone.
Thinking ahead scares me because it seems overwhelming, but it’s like that joke about “how do you eat an elephant”. The answer for any overwhelming project is to tackle it a bit at a time.
I’d like to listen more to the wisdom around me, similar to the child listening to the rabbi’s heart. Listening to the community around me, is like listening to the pulse of the world, since we’re all connected. I might not agree with some of it, but I’ll bet it will be energizing.
A Jewish boy, the only son of his devout parents, was a most biddable child, with one exception! He resisted learning the Torah. To his parents, nothing could have been more distressing.
The Chief Rabbi was to visit their Synagogue. They decided to ask him to visit their home. He did, and after the meal the parents expressed to the Rabbi their concern about their son.
The Rabbi asked permission to place his arms around the boy. The parents agreed, moving to one side. They watched and waited, expecting to hear some word of advice from the Rabbi to the boy. But the only word they heard was silence as they watched their son rest close to the Rabbi’s heart.
The next day the boy began to study the Torah. His passion for God’s word grew. Years later he became a wise and loving Rabbi. Many asked him whence his knowledge came. He simply said, ‘I put my ear close to the Chief Rabbi’s heart and in that moment I heard the heartbeat of God.’
In the Gospel of John the ‘beloved disciple’ has his ear on Jesus’ heart. It is a privileged place. But I too am a beloved disciple, so I can do likewise. Only in silence can I hear the Lord’s heartbeat.
Lord, enrich my days with moments of silence, in which I simply
