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31 Days of Free Writes #Whisper

Whispers are special.  They are formed within the heart and protected by the voice.  Sometimes like a special string of words that are specially packaged within the confines of a quiet voice hushed for emphasis of importance.  Emphasizing the importance of the message.  It's barely audible deliverance exhibiting the necessity to lean forward and concentrate on the meaning, the words whispered.  
Sometimes whispers are sweet messages from a friend, lover, or our children.  Sometimes they are a marked warning from a mother leaning into the hair of her children and whispering a warning meant for their small ears only.  Sometimes they are lovely and sometimes they are painful and sometimes they are secrets.  But they are always personal.  The decibel of the voice denotes the importance of the message and the importance of the listener.  
It's almost like the lack of volume amplifies the loudness of the message's meaning.  Funny. A lack of volume is what makes the message stand out.  But it is also what means the messages can easily be missed if the one listening refuses to lean in close, strain over the noise, and really concentrate on the words barely spoken.
Do you enjoy CS Lewis' books?  I love flipping through them because I get lost in pondering the rich meanings that spill out through the pages.  The different ways he saw the world and the new ways he makes me look back into mine...
Here's a familiar one....
God Whispers to us in our pleasures....

That's a thought.  God's still soft voice is present and intimate in the beauty, love, and grace He whispers into the din of our lives every day.  Little moments pressed into our hands meant to be like softly whispered love into our heart's ears.  Ways to see Him.  And really aren't they there throughout so much of our lives?  We just most entirely miss them or fail to accept them as coming from Him...

The chubby palm of my three year old pressed into mine...
Seeing a child laugh and be completely uninhibited with how loud they become...
Stargazing and watching the pictures God has constructed in the sky with unending shining starry jewels...
Holding the hand of someone you love, feeling it squeeze yours in assurance...
Seeing acres of rolling green grass waving in summer breezes, resting beneath so much blue horizon...
Our world is filled with whispers....
Whispers of God...His creativity, His beauty, His glory, His enormity, His joy, and His intimate attention to detail like so many whispers..And most as unnoticed as the paper thin wings of a butterfly gliding through a patch of vibrant wildflowers... The whispers are largely unheard, lost in the noise
This makes me think...

Is that why CS Lewis refers to pain as the megaphone of the world?  The one thing that must command our attention and make us stop dead in our tracks.  The one thing that will make us choose to look into His face and run from Him or run to Him...it's pain...His loudest speech...
But what if maybe I stilled and attended to the whispers...
What if I tried to hear the soft still voice more...maybe if I did, opened my eyes and ears, leaned my heart so close to his chest, maybe then I wouldn't miss them and maybe then I wouldn't have to be jolted awake by the loud decibels of pain...

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Morning

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Morning

Morning seems sacred to me.  Having nocturnal children kind of robs me of the mornings I like to enjoy in silence and quiet thought.
For years I would get up at least two hours before anyone so I could just be by myself and be quiet.
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Morning breaks the night.
I love that Cat Steven's hymn Morning has Broken.  I've always thought the words were so beautiful.
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