A Morsel of WHAT?

Coffee is not for gourmet delight in a college dorm room diverted to silent retreat accommodation for five days, six nights: Winn-Dixie instant coffee made with three forkfuls because there’s no spoon, hot water from the washbasin tap. Yuck doesn’t say it. Nasty? No matter, serves for wakeup.  

Sudden burst of rain. iTitan on the iPad spread out for detail shows a rainstorm moving through Mobile, green over us, yellow approaching, light orange spot may come over momentarily, but the two darker orange spots will move one to the west of us and one to the east. iTitan is so perfect that one can tell whether a rain squall (or tornado) will hit this block or the next block. I absolutely love modern electronics, have been enjoying their advance for the past thirty-five years. It’s worth living into the early 21st century instead of the late 19th century with my grandfathers, just for weather apps. Otherwise I prefer their day and age of trains instead of planes, windows open and screen doors slamming.

Our first half of the 20th century was still like that, and better because of Henry Ford et alia.   

Under spiritual direction, continue listening for Elijah’s sound of sheer silence. Saturday night awakened from a miscellaneous dream by the thought “here for health,” keeps recurring, returning. Is that you, יְהוָה,? Otherwise, the sound of silence is birds singing, mosquitos humming, tinnitus ringing, crickets chirping.

Elijah is featured on the current Mass booklet:

Nice, though unlikely Elijah dressed so well in the ravine where the ravens fed him bread and meat. That bread looks like manna -- or a Communon wafer. But meat? Meat? Where do ravens get meat? They snatch morsels of carrion from lions and wolves. 

Still listening.

The rain is gone.

TW+