"Lord, you sometimes speak" *

"Lord, you sometimes speak in wonders," the book said. The kind of jaw-dropping in the world yet otherworldly stuff that words can't wrangle onto the page, I'm guessing.

"Lord, you sometimes speak in whispers," the book said. Ssshhhh, pay attention. The kind of revelation you could drive past or miss from flipping channels when it's sitting next to you, quietly singing the questions and answers you're looking for, I'm guessing.

"Lord, you sometimes speak in silence," the book said. Aaah yes, when you're waiting for the thunderclap or the banging gong, but that's not the thing at all. A game show answer where you buzz in and go all John Cage on 'em, I'm guessing.

"Lord, you sometimes speak in scripture," the book said. The written word, alive in so many places--a receipt, a brick wall tagged in graffiti, napkin scratching, scripture, those sacred words that find you and speak directly, I'm guessing.

"Lord, you always speak in Jesus," the book said. And Buddha, and Mohammad, and the Dalai Lama, and a beggar, and a bartender, a homeless man singing a song he thought he'd forgotten, a barista, a charitable act, a smile. How would God speak, after all, if not through people, I'm guessing.

Then again, it's not my hymn. I'm just reading and trying to sing along. I can't even carry a tune. I'm just guessing.

* Title and quotes from a hymn of the same title, sung at Easton Church of the Brethren, Nov. 14, 2010