Tea in a cup, hand crafted by the humble hands of a human. A human broken in a broken world. Unending pain, anger, confusion. Yet even amongst the broken, shattered pieces of this world joy is found. Joy is found while shaping a vessel of clay. A cup is shaped, which holds the fine perfection of tea. Tea that is sipped by me as I contemplate life from a rocking chair.
Five things to think on. Five things to comtemplate as I look out at big sky country. The mountain range of perfection. Why am I here? Why has God placed me here? In it I must be gentle, humble, and quiet. Listening is the key to the art of quietness. Here in this place I listen. I approach with gentleness and desire to hear. To hear the stories of broken people. I too listen for the voice of the Creator who shaped each triangle, each misshaped mountain. Among it all I pray for peace, discernment, for time. I pray among people. I pray alone. Praying for the brokenness of the Rez, the people I've encountered. And selfishly I pray for me, for my brokenness. I seek. Oh how I seek. In patience, I have received. And I've found peace in my quietness. Last, I remember that the shadow proves the sunshine. The trials of the beginning weeks. The baggage, the fear, the confusion, the uncertainty. How those trials have illuminated the greatness of the Creator. To go to the mountains, to seek our Creator. How I've grown. I find myself broken as all humans are. But I find hope in a Creator who has shaped the sky, the mountains, and me.
