A Still Small Voice

I’ts been chilly and wet these past mornings making it unappealing to muck around in the gardens in such sop. But I have taken these importune moments afforded me and yielded myself to quiet contemplative moments before the fire.

My dark and swarthy cat stretched out next to my rocking chair in deep repose. Lucky cat.

I am grateful for these special moments. Time to quiet my mind while I treadle the spinning wheel, gently drawing the wool and watching it slip through my fingers and onto the spindle. With only the sounds of the flickering fire and the gentle whirring of the flywheel, and a heart open to the still small voice.

11 Then He said, “Go out, and stand on the mountain before the LORD.” And behold, the LORD passed by, and a great and strong wind tore into the mountains and broke the rocks in pieces before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake;
12 and after the earthquake a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire; and after the fire a still small voice.
(1 Kings 19:11-12, New King James Version)

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