Day 10 ish Slow

And I'm just slow.  Slow to do everything.  Slow to learn everything. Slow to know myself.  Slow with relationships. Just straight up slow. And this world just races, but my heart it paces because it can't keep up.  Can't keep up with the speed of everyone else. And honestly some days my rhythm, my routine just feels so out of sync with everything around me. But I just keep finding myself at these contemplative things, and well that just works for me.  It works for me because I'm slow, and they're slow.   And maybe that's not bad, maybe that's just different. Different and okay.

Sometimes I feel the time wolf chasing me, or the crocodile clock from Peter pan pounding at my door,  and the truth is I'm most happy, most content when I'm not so concerned about the clocks, and more in tune with my own beat, my own cadence, my own time signature. But society chimes, and church society cuckoo cuckoos, and I forget, forget that this rhythm I live is beautiful, in it's own uncharted way. And whoever said life was a race, well I guess Paul did, but that's Paul. And I'm just gonna stroll.  Notice the details, be aware of the changes, invest in the moments.

Advent is slow. Not something so rushed, so hectic, so scheduled.  And you might be wondering where this is all coming from.  Well last night I stumbled to the Mark Centre contemplative, silent walk through. (Side note: if you live in Abbotsford you should go, if you like quiet things, and reflective things.  I think it's on still tomorrow night from 7-9).

It felt like I was walking through the chambers of my own heart. And I'm still unpacking the mystery, the revelation, the new understanding.  Still reminding my heart of the things it left behind, of the things it learned, of the realities it faces. It was beautiful, painful, freeing and beautiful.  Like looking your soul in the mirror and have a good long study.  A good realization.

And this desert heart is waiting for a stream, even a trickle.
So in my advent, in my desert, I stretch out my cup, I look for Christ and his miracle well.
Embrace the thirst, I become aware of the dehydration.

Fill up my cup, Lord.
Even with a drop, one little drop.