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After all the words read and said in my Lenten practices this year, Joyce Rupp invites me to observe a time of silence and solitude each day. What does the silence bring me?

  • a slowing down of my breathing
  • a clearing of my space of external noise, a choice for me to unplug and shut down what creates babble
  • a lens through which to notice the gifts of creation around me–the first rose in bloom, the sprout from the succulent in the box by the gazebo, the hummingbird and the pair of romping squirrels, the endless forming and re-forming of clouds
  • an inner word to anchor my reflection; today, once again, it was GRACE
  • a space in which to spread and to sort all the pieces of my daily life, my memories of past adventures and hopes for the unknown and unfolding future
  • an ear by which to listen to what comes to me from the Spirit–for today, for those closest to me, for creation, for all people everywhere
  • a tangible connection to all others who long for and seek the Holy in all places around the world
  • a context for understanding and hoping in prayer for the broken world that God loves and that I try to love
  • one more encounter with the Mystery we call God, ephemeral, real, numinous, in that slowed down breathing, closer than my own breath.

Thomas Keating says, The root of prayer is interior silence.

I pray in this final week of Lent that what I choose for my exterior practice becomes a reality in my interior heart.