When God called Abraham to
Abraham was silent.
He was also silent when God told him
to take his son up a mountain
and sacrifice him there.
I think I get it now.
We question Abraham’s silence
during these trials
because so often he is chatty with God.
He has so much to say.
He is unafraid to challenge.
But these journey’s render him mute
and I as well.
I have no words on the eve of my own Exodus.
I have spent them all on goodbyes.
I used them up trying to explain the inexplicable.
“This is crazy!” they probably said to Abe as well.
I wonder how long he tried to explain it before he gave up.
And frankly, I’m too tired to think of words,
even words of prayer,
even wails of lamentation.
All of that came before.
Now, I am just tired.
Now, my heart is heavy.
I’ll bet Abraham was tired too.
I’ll bet his leaving was also abrupt and hurried.
God is more fearsome than even the U.S. government
I understand his silence.
It mirrors my own.
I don’t want to speak.
Not even to God.
Now I just want to begin.
To move my tired feet forward
step by step
toward whatever I am being sent to.
A place neither familiar nor foreign.
Home and Not-Home.
Ancient and New.
It is Sukkot and I am wandering
neither here nor there.
Everything is in boxes.
Everything is temporary.
Were they silent too,
as they left home to go home?
And did they know what I am learning:
That home is not a place you leave
or journey toward
or arrive at;
Home is what you carry in your heart.
Empty mouth. Full Heart.
And away we go.