Tick.
Tock.
The living room clock and the dining room clock played ping pong with each other. Back and forth. Back and forth.
I don't hear these sounds very often. The quiet click is drowned out by the noise of life - kids, TV, music, talk. Yet underneath the clatter, the clocks mark time, steadily and silently doing their job whether I take any notice or not.
In the craziness of December, I want to remember the clocks. Not for their sake, but as a reminder that God is constant. He doesn't scream for attention, but speaks in a still small voice.
Be still and know that I am God. (Psalm 46:10)
1 comment:
You are mighty close to why I treasure my Grandfather's clock. (Note: not "A" grandfather's clock, but my Grandfather Elijah Wyatt's clock.) It lives atop the barrister's cabinet in which Ida Mae Wyatt's (his wife) carnival glass set is displayed. These things give continuity to the generations around here.
The steady, constant, tick-tock and hourly chimes remind me that time steadily passes, life goes on, and God has granted us blessings for now and forever. The amber sheen of the iridescent glass reminds me that the beautiful things in life are often associated with the multi-hued grandure of rainbows and crysals and bright waters and that each of these in turn depend upon a source of God's bright, shining, sunlight.
I think the real treasure you were enjoying in the "wee hours" was the "sound of silence". It's usually hard to detect amidst the swirl of kids and dogs and birds and hubby over there. But yes, under all the happy hubbub in your home, there is a peace and quiet and security of a steadfast and permanent nature. Although each day's transient events and visitors raise the volume, God is quietly and steadily in control. Enjoy it!
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