after a long day...

i find myself trolling the cupboards for junk food. and the bulk bag of dried chick peas only reminds me that cooking beans has been on my list for months... another unfinished task. and i hope that the salt from the few half triscuits i fished out of the virtually empty box will fill my craving. it is a good thing there isn't any real junk food around here tonight. but it never really works anyways. cause tonight's craving is deeper than that... if i were to sit in the quiet and really know it. but I'm pretty sure I won't sit in quiet - not just because there isn't much quiet around here - but because to sit in quiet is to be with two people. myself and God. and I don't know who either of them truly are. beneath the habitual assumptions, endless excuses, and frail confidence... even in - through - this fog the Spirit moves, breathing. and it seems a cliche, but sitting just now i think, what if I opened the door just a crack, if I were quiet enough to hear a knock. and would supper be so bad? i can partly imagine, and faintly hope - something more than triscuit crumbs. Bread?