Mary simply sits and listens to Jesus. He is my guest as well, living in me and loving me constantly. I want to learn how to be still and listen to Jesus telling me of his love. He speaks of it in the sounds of my morning walk: the different songs of birds, the wind whispering through the trees or roaring through the woods, the far off sound of a train laboring up the 17 Mile Grade, a dog barking in the distance. I hear his voice in the intense stillness of the wilderness, in the trickle of Red Creek, and in the crash of its water falls. Rain on the roof as I lie in bed during the night. Lake water lapping at the shore.
Many years ago for my walk I tried plugging my ears into a CD player. After two days I gave it up. I missed the natural sounds.
We live in a noisy world. Here on the lake during the week there are boats and wave runners and lawn mowers. We make a lot of noise ourselves. The noise of the news can be a great distraction.
To hear Jesus tell me his love requires a contemplative kind of listening. Centering prayer seems to sharpen my ears so that I am more aware of the sounds of love around me.
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