The house is quiet, save for the comfortable rumble of my old dryer faithfully tumbling wet clothes dry.
The morning was full of sorting laundry and changing loads, sipping coffee and ladies group with homemade vegetable soup and babies cooing in warm winter sunshine pouring through bay windows, toddlers fighting over pretzels, the free-spirited laughter of friends and conviction.
This one phrase from the book of Mark stands out to me, totally out of context, but I can’t shake how the words seep into my mind.
“The sower soweth the word.”
Mark was telling the parable of Jesus about the sower who sowed the seed, but when I read that one verse, The sower soweth the word I’m not thinking about the sower and the seed and the soil.
I’m thinking in the context of my life.
Everyone speaks words, but to listen is an art, and it’s the listener who sees.
The one who talks who hasn’t first mastered the art of listening, is careless.
But the one who listens and speaks, they gain entrance to the deepest beauty of the soul.
Everyone speaks but listening is art, and it’s the listener who sees and gains entrance to the deepest beauty of the soul.
The words soaked with conviction tumbling through my mind, like the load of wet clothes rotating in my dryer downstairs.
More thoughts coming later…