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I can’t even begin to recognize the melody, Amazing Grace. The wind is blowing the chimes too hard. They are striking at the 4:00 o’clock hour with a furious frenzy.

If I thought I could sleep I would remove the innocent metal module thingys hanging from the porch roof but I know that’s not going to happen so instead, I let them clang on and get up.

But when the wind calms and they are quiet, I realize I miss their clatter.

I wonder if that’s how my words—thought, spoken, written—seem to Him? A clanging frenzy. When they stop—all thought, all speaking, all writing—does He miss them?

Because he allows them to be all tossed about and scattered as they are, before He sweeps in and joins me in this noisy silent morning soliloquy.

I change my seat to the front porch where I can see the sun rise over the rooftops. All I hear now is the wind. No more chimes.

He allows a chorus of chirps and a lone hooting call to enter into our stillness.

It is my own furious frenzy, and not the chimes’, that has kept me from grasping His grace. Submerged, like a sailboat mastered by the sea, billow after billow have rolled over me.

“You have overwhelmed me with all Your waves,” the Psalmist writes.

I’m like the boat’s broken shell, tossed about and yet here I am with an all-sufficient God.

Higher than me is He. His Grace over my sins, His love over my thoughts.

We sit, side by side, in the quiet until I hear footsteps on the steps and my son enters this sanctuary with coffee and toast, and takes a seat.

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