wake up, 7am, with matt lauer and katie couric. ashton kutcher was on the show this morning, talking about his new movie that's coming out. i won't go see it; i'm too poor to see movies in the theater lately, not to mention that i'm not all that interested in ashton kutcher as an actor (note his past film history - dude, where's my car?). but i left the tv on to hear the weather (frigid) and the traffic (slowed due to a tractor-trailer accident). out the door, into my white refridgerator on wheels, turn on the radio. the minute hand is flying this morning, it seems. turn off the radio, call david. how are you? yeah, it's freezing here too. talk to you later, and i walk in to class. autoimmune diseases for two hours, more antibiotics, a review session during lunch, an hour in the gym with the supertones in my discman. and then back home - wait - to the pathmark on the corner, because i'm out of milk. and then home, but after the bank, because i paid those bills yesterday and my checking account is l-o-w. and so the day slipped by until this moment, as i am sitting in my bed, alone, in silence. i am tempted to turn on the tv, and i wonder why that is, considering my whole day has been cacophonous enough. the stillness at the end of the day is the part of it that matters most, the part where i connect with myself again. like many reunions, this nightly one with all my thoughts of the day often makes me uneasy. it's awkward at first, but there's always this little bit of grace that waits for me there, filling deep silence with the presence of God. thank God for silence, where we can learn to hear Him. thank God for helping us know ourselves. thank God for his Son's death that lets me face myself without fear, because that self has been paid for already.