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Sometimes, there’s a sermon in the silence

Eloquence from empty echoes

When God chooses to communicate through the quietest whisper

When there’s peace to be achieved

Stillness, and void sound

Are the unstolen breadcrumbs that guide you home

When your brain decides to throw a block party with your thoughts

I imagine God being that one guest who showed up,

Just looking for a good conversation…

So seek for Him

In the quietness of every moment

Therein lies an opportunity

To hear Him

Ode to Time


“To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven: 

A time to be born, And a time to die; A time to plant, And a time to pluck what is planted; A time to kill, And a time to heal; A time to break down, And a time to build up; A time to weep, And a time to laugh; A time to mourn, And a time to dance; A time to cast away stones, And a time to gather stones; A time to embrace, And a time to refrain from embracing; A time to gain, And a time to lose; A time to keep, And a time to throw away; A time to tear, And a time to sew; A time to keep silence, And a time to speak; A time to love, And a time to hate; A time of war, And a time of peace.” – Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 NKJV

Dear Time,

I apologize for not having more respect for you

In most instances

I know I don’t acknowledge you at all

Sorry, that my heart refuses to bow down to you

That my mind constantly takes your name in vain

My body does not reverence you

For my soul is too heavy to adhere to your restrictions

Seasons tell me to move on

Yet, I’m still stuck on yesterday

Trying to make sense of these multitudes of insignificance

I fail to grasp the concept

Because I dig for meaning in dry, man-made soil

There is no life inside the memories I store

When God sets aside a time for joy

My feet are more inclined to dangle rather than dance

When its time to build

I’m often deconstructing

I have trouble obeying

And now I’m paying

Jet-lagged from life

I am simply too slow

To know

This is where you let go

And embrace the new season approaching

Truth is, I missed calls from winter, spring and summer

So I didnt catch my ride to the next destination

Been too busy trying to save that I’ve been losing more than I can afford

And its funny…

I know time flies…

But when heartbreaks, losses and failures form a traffic jam

On the only motorway to peace

I just need a minute

I know the road to growth has no shortcuts, but

Please, don’t take off without me

I promise,

I’m coming…

I’m coming



I sit on a set table

The faces surrounding me look unfamiliar

This grand room with shiny floors

Is a dungeon of silence

Dinner is served, sacredly

We dine together every rest day

The plates out, ceremoniously set

But within this room

There lies no rest

Can anyone break this silence?

Can we unfence our pretences and simply break… the bread?

A voice, like sour wine, graces the table…

“For what we are about to receive, may we be truly grateful.”

A tinkling interrupts the sounding brass

As my elbow accidentally knocks the stainless steel

The moment, cold as steel

But beneath our skin, blood boils

Will we ever break… the bread?

Will we ever recall at all

The reason why we maintain this awkward ritual?

I seem to remember all that is insignificant

These shiny floors

This grand room

Inside this magnificent prison,

We have set camp in the bliss of ignorance

The bread…

We don’t touch it.

We stare at it,

Become stale on its behalf

Why is that?

Our hands haven’t cracked a crust

Haven’t felt the crumbs fall like dust from our finger-tips

Nor wiped the leftovers from the sides of our mouths

Let alone shared a piece

There is bread on the table

Yet we remain unfed


And far too many words left unsaid

We are never fully filled

By food which we aren’t hungry for…

The bread is always on offer

But now I’m starting to wonder

How long for?