I wanted it. Desired it greatly. Yearned for its coming. But when it did come, I fought, resisted, ran, hid away. I said, "Go home!" I didn't know the fire of God could be more than a gentle glow or a cozy consolation. I didn't know it could come in as a blaze ... a wildfire uncontrolled, searing my soul, chasing my old ways, smoking them out. Only when I stopped running, gave up the chase, surrendered, did I know the fire's flaming as consolation and joy. Only then could I welcome the One whose fire I had long sought.
Music is pleasing not only because of the sound but because of the silence that is in it: without the alternation of sound and silence, there would be no rhythm.If we strive to be happy by filling the silence of life with sound, productive by turning all life's leisure into work, and real by turning all our being into doing, we will only succeed in producing a hell on earth.If we have no silence, God is not heard in our music.If we have no rest, God does not bless our work.If we twist our lives out of shape in order to fill every corner of them with action and experience, God will seem silently to withdraw from our hearts and leave us empty.