It's early. Perhaps when the routine of school sets in, I'll settle into a somewhat normal sleep pattern. Perhaps.
I've been sitting in the chair by the front doorwindow looking into the darkness of the morningnight. Unfortunately, my mind became distracted by my Uh-ohs.
Uh-oh. Three days until teacher meetings, and I still have four flower beds I need to re-do. And it's supposed to rain every day until the middle of next week. I hate the uh-ohs of unfulfilled goals.
Uh-oh. Three days until teacher meetings, and when I look at the piles of books I had hoped to read this summer in the pursuit of the next "soul book," there are least twenty I didn't get to. (Maybe if I had quit ordering more . . . Three are in the mail now.) I hate the uh-ohs of missed opportunities.
Uh-oh. Three days until teacher meetings begin, and I just found out yesterday afternoon that the number of students I have in AP English has risen from 23 to 31. You would think after all these years I would know to wait to order copies from Wes (WCS will have to shut down if we ever lose Wes) until all the schedule changes were in. But did I? Nope. Hey, I've only been at this now for about fifty years. But now, I'll need to go in to school and run off more copies. (Actually, I shouldn't complain. That's kinda a partial answer to my prayers. Shhhh. Don't tell anyone, but I was praying all summer that they wouldn't be able to find a teacher for the College Credit Plus class. I confess, I am a jealous egotist. I don't like the idea of any seniors graduating without my having a chance to touch their lives with my favorite soul books and a deeper understanding of the Lover of their Souls. Jealousy! Spiritual Pride! Guilty as charged.) Anyway, now I have to run off some more copies. I hate the frustration of messing up my own plans.
Uh-oh. Uh-oh. Uh-oh. The frustration of goals unreached, opportunities missed, plans gone awry. Such noise in my brain though I sit in the dark stillness of a morningnight.
But wait. Sitting in the darkness, one of my favorite poems by Wendell Berry slipped in among the Uh-ohs.
"Best of any song
is bird song
in the quiet, but first
you must have the quiet."
I have the quiet! I am sitting in the hush of the morningnight this very moment. Ah, stillness. Any minute now the Morrow County Tabernacle Choir will begin its oratorio. Meditating on that wonder easily dispels the noise of all the Uh-ohs in my brain. And I think I can imagine how it will begin. The "sweet, sweet, sweet" of the cardinals nestled into the quiet background cooing of the mourning doves. Shhh. Any moment it will begin--in the quiet. Bird song.
If you're up in time, I hope you're listening. I hope you don't let your Uh-ohs--goals not reached, opportunities missed, plans gone awry--mess up the soul-quieting joy of the concert. It will be magnificent. Listen. (No wonder His eye is on each sparrow--beautiful members of His early morning choir.)
Sh. Listen.
Sorry. You're frustration with your Uh-ohs is ruining the quiet. I'm going to leave you. Bye. It's symphony time.
Sweet, sweet--cooooooo. Sweet-cooooo-sweet. Coo-sweet-ooo.