without ink

Today was a lonely day. I’m amazed by situations in which I’m surrounded by many people yet still feel alone. I waited all day for someone to notice me, to make an effort to acknowledge my existence, to say my name. Perhaps I’m strange, but it seems that in circumstances such as these, the utterance of my name would bring relief, would be soothing, would even take the edge off the loneliness. Isn’t it true that hearing one’s name sounds sweeter when it rolls from the tongue of someone who takes an interest in us…someone who we admire very much….or perhaps someone who we didn’t know even knew we existed!

The other night I took a walk. You want to talk about a beautiful evening. I’ve never been so great at art, but as I was walking, I picked a weed with a thick tassel on the end and imagined how it would feel to paint the sky- the strokes flowing easily, transmitting the beauty of the masterpiece found only in the mind’s eye of the artist, and the colors blending together yet somehow maintaining their individuality. Dusk approached, and as I changed directions, I was captured by a stunning sunset. Small clouds spotted the blue, purple, and pink swirled sky as the sun seemed to hide behind a larger cloud. Beautiful rays emanated in all directions from the covered source of light…penetrating the sky with hints of its glory. My spirit leaped with ecstasy at this divine whisper of love.

My God speaks in a still, small voice. He has called me by name to come to himself long ago, and the beauty of his voice draws me nearer as I yearn to hear him say my name again…..again…..again. My loneliness pales in comparison to the comfort I feel as I am brought back to the realization that because he delights in calling me by name, he is constantly and sweetly singing over me, waiting for me to quiet myself long enough to hear His voice.

He whispers. Are we listening?