The sun tries to come out. It is a true November morning--cold and grey, with hints of blue and white light in the sky, a haze over the hills and trees, the ground covered with wet leaves, the trees dead and barren except for the pines. ... I sit content, held in peace as if God is embracing me. The silence is magnificent and healing. I become a part of it--silent, calm, at peace. My soul is quieted.
We thank Thee for all Thy golden silences --
Silence of friendship, telling more than words:
Silence of hearts, close-knitting heart to heart;
Silence of joys too wonderful for words;
Silence of sorrows, when Thou drawest near,
Silence of soul, wherein we come to Thee
And find ourselves in Thine immensity;
For that great Silence where Thou dwell'st alone --
Keeping watch above Thine own,
Deep unto deep, within us sound sweet chords
Of praise beyond the reach of human words;
In our souls' silence, feeling only Thee
We thank Thee, thank Thee, thank Thee.