Voices

Do you hear voices? The crying, the shouting, the loud, the obnoxious, the deathly quiet whisper.

Do you hear music? The softly playing melody of a lullaby, the heavy metal musical noise, the classical symphony, or any modern version of music as old as humanity.

Do you feel dance? The ballet, the waltz, or any of the thousands of variations of movement belonging to any and all ethnic groups around the world.

Do you hear this when all around you is the quiet and serene world of peace and tranquillity?

Do you need the noise of city, or family, business or busyness to drown out these voices?

Does this make the noise even greater? Does it add to the cacophony that you hear instead of drowning it out?

Do you hear the Word of God?

Is His voice somewhere in that noise you hear, in the rabble that you try to shut out because it is so tiresome and overwhelming?

Is social media another form of noise that impacts our senses to the point of unbearable cacophony?

The Wylde Wood Way, this is my way of speaking. This is my way to make sense of this world and its noise, distractions, busyness and petty dramas of life that ultimately have little meaning to the course of human history.

How do I make sense of it all? Simple answer is that I do not.

I have tried all my life to make sense of what surrounds me. I have never succeeded and most likely never will.

I have finally reached a point in my life where I can remove myself from the cacophony of noise that distracts and destroys that which is valuable and important. I have a lifestyle that allows me to understand what God is saying to me.

I do hear voices. I hear the voice of God. I hear the voices of those in distress. I hear the voices of those of a past, near and distant, speaking to any who will listen.

We live in a world that is deaf to all but its own needs and desires. We only hear those things we want to hear. We disparage all that does not conform to what we believe to be the only truth.

This world is heading for a day of reckoning. A day of our own making. A day when all our wonderful intellectual and physical achievements mean absolutely nothing.

That day is not far away.

The voices are speaking. They are speaking from a long distant past. They have never stopped.

We stopped listening.

Blessings to you all

Aoife