The clock’s silent space beckons

Calhoun Times - - OPINION/COMMENT - Deck Cheatham

strained by the space and the words. Each week I at­tempt to fill that space with my best. Each week I at­tempt to re­duce life and the­ol­ogy into it. Me­thinks there is irony here.

Today, I am not con­cerned about the words. I am fo­cused on space, not space for the col­umn, but the space be­tween the words and the one that lies be­tween life’s mo­ments.

If there be any at­tribute that our species places in es­teem, cu­rios­ity finds a home there. Of­ten I won­der as I read the gospels what life was like for Je­sus and his dis­ci­ples, not as they fed the five thou­sand or healed the blind, but what they did be­fore or af­ter­ward. What did they do around the camp­fire and the jour­ney from town to town? What were their con­ver­sa­tions like? Who did they meet along the way? What did they do in the spa­ces be­tween his­tory?

Com­mon may not de­scribe my bent to­ward spa­ces, but I bet oth­ers have no­ticed them. Fo­cus­ing on the space be­tween words, be­tween anx­i­eties, be­tween mem­o­ries, be­tween peo­ple, is so prevalent in my think­ing that I per­ceive life this way with­out ef­fort.

Ex­tro­ver­sion is a life raft for re­al­ity, but in­tro­ver­sion sus­tains the soul at­tuned to a con­stant search for mean­ing and per­spec­tive. Life events may be im­por­tant, but the silent spa­ces be­tween them are the precipices on which we stand alone, un­veiled be­fore God.

There is a story about a boss that gave an em­ployee a project. The em­ployee dili­gently went about his work, and when done, re­ported to his boss. The boss, lis­ten­ing in­tently to the re­port, waited un­til the em­ployee fin­ished. When com­plete, the boss said, “That’s not what I told you to do!” Sur­prised, the em­ployee re­sponded, “But I wrote down your in­struc­tions.” The boss replied, “That may be what I said, but that’s not what I meant!” Spa­ces hold mean­ing.

Be­tween the tick and tock in time, God’s voice per­sists. That silent space beckons our at­ten­tion. Should we ever have the courage to com­mune with it, God will be there.

Life never re­ally be­gins un­til we know how much God loves us. We dis­cover this in spa­ces.

“Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46: 10).

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from USA

© PressReader. All rights reserved.