Into Great Silence

Holly is in the shower. I was having a hard time writing, but the thought of her in that place was plenty to get me rolling. If you don't know by now I adore every inch, every cell, every wave of energy of my girl.

I am thinking beyond water today. To sun and sky. Water is a place of baptism, but from that place one's heart should set a flame. Where does fire go, but into the great silence of the sky above. If I could write from that place I could elevate the world. I was on assignment this weekend covering the New Providence Street Fair. I met some people that had stories they needed to share with people for various reasons. Every single one of them was grateful for my interest in them. These exchanges were genuine interactions on a perfectly human level.



I need to write about them, so I can shake them from my mind and at the same time elevate their stories to this silent voice, on this silent computer, into the great silence of the internet. The internet holds no spiritual significance in and of itself, but if I reach my readers and my words reach their readers hearts then the transformation can take place, and any story I share of me or anyone else can live in great silence, in the great sky. Sometimes all we can do is see a story, and that is enough. Sometimes, as the people I met know, that is not enough.    

The first of these three folks I met was a man named Paul. He was stout, both in physical appearance and character. He could barely walk. He was a member of the Lion Club, and he sat out in the sun all day to bring awareness and support for the Lions Club Hospital and for programs to help returning veterans. I would go as far as saying his personality was rough, but when he spoke of the people he was out to support his heart set aflame, draped in a crown of thorns.

Christine was a mother that broke down in tears promoting education and awareness for organ donation. She wanted to dispel myths that people hold onto and prevent them from registering as organ donors. Her son died playing football for New Providence High School at age 17. His liver, heart, heart valves, pancreas, and skin were all harvested for donation.  She was on display, nailed to a cross, so the world could understand.

Then I talked to Nicholas' mother Amy. Her son battled cancer for four years from the age of 3. When he was five, and frustrated with the disease, he wrote Cancer Stinks on a piece of paper. That is now the name of the family organization that raise money for cancer related issues. On his 7th birthday his battle with cancer ended. I didn't get to meet this little boy. He was running around the fair cancer free, as he has been ever since. The back of his Cancer Stinks cap says President and CEO. He was resurrected from terrible suffering.

I raise these stories like the Cup of Trembling. Quiescence reigns my heart this morning. I am happy.