I've been reading "The Saints Guide to Happiness" the last
few nights. Each chapter is devoted to a specific topic.
Last night I read about how to find God in silence. I'm
finding that easier now than I used to. It's rare, too,
when you can find someone you can sit with in a comfortable
silence. John is someone like that and I cherish it.
I unfortunately have one in-law who always wants to fill any
lull spot in a converstion with talk, even if it's inane.
People have a tendency to stop listening and just smile and
nod their heads when she begins one of her monologues.
Blathering is what John calls it. Eventually, she runs out
of even boring things to say and then some terribly
insensitive comment will come out of her mouth because her
mouth was engaged when her brain wasn't. Sometimes, even if
one is not trying to find God, it's best to keep one's mouth
Of course, choir practice is not the place for silence.
Karen and I chat when we're not singing, sometimes causing
the choir director to give us stern looks. We stop for a
while but then we're right back at it again. Last night we
talked about preparations for the quilt show and also what
we need to bake for the church meeting on Saturday. She
gave me the recipe for cheese chicken enchiladas. I need to
make two 9x13 pans of that. I'm also making two dozen
cupcakes and need to get them to the church by Friday
David asked me how long it'd taken me to make the little
hats and burial gowns. "About an hour for each hat,
probably twelve to fifteen hours for the knitted gowns,
booties and bonnets and three or four hours for each sewn
burial set." I told him. "Wow!", he said. "You spent a long
time on those! That really was a Lenten discipline." It was.