The sacredness of paying attention

How many times do I pass by things without giving them a notice at all? Just the other day, I was heading home from an errand on a commonly used road and missed my turn. Why? I was lost in my thoughts. I wasn't paying attention.

Last month, my husband and I toured Buchenwald Concentration Camp near Weimar, Germany. This was on a weekend between business meetings and we went here at my request.

When I passed through these grounds on foot, where thousands of people once suffered and many died, I was paying attention. I wasn't just passing through nonchalantly. 

standing in a concentration camp barrack space I looked down and saw 2 hearts

Everywhere I stepped foot in this place, though many of the original buildings were long gone replaced by rubble, I felt I was walking on sacred ground.

There was a peace there that is hard to describe to someone who hasn't been to a place like this. A place of suffering, and yet there was an eerie peacefulness there, a hush. A holiness that I can only describe as God's presence there. 

God in his grace and infinite mercy, present there to honor the memories of those who suffered. Those who were tortured and killed just because of who they were. They hadn't done anything wrong.

Before we left the grounds, we took a meandering path that led to an "ash grave". Supposedly where ashes from the ovens were buried.

The birds were singing the most beautiful songs in this place I've ever heard. I stood in my silence and looked up at the treetops. I saw no birds flying, or sitting on branches. Yet there was loud singing.

Could God have sent heavenly birds there to sing as an everlasting memorial to those who had gone?

I believe so.

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Blessings to you, 

~Anne


Thanks for stopping by today, friends! It's been awhile since I posted for Five Minute Friday. I'm happy to be back! Joining a flash mob of writers over at katemotaung.com for five minutes of free writing. No fancy edits. Head over there to see what everyone wrote on the prompt, "pass". 

learning to pay attention

Today is Five Minute Friday, where a tribe of writers gather to write for just five minutes. Without fancy edits, just writing to get the words out. Come on over to Kate Motaung's blog to see how you can join in or just read what others have written on the prompt, "learn".

Just yesterday afternoon, I heard this knock. It sounded like a knock on my front door, but instead it was coming from the back of the house! Like from my little half bath!

I wondered what in the world could be making a knocking sound that was just like the UPS man knocking on my door. Kind of freaked me out, honestly, because I was home alone at the time. Again, no one else could be making this knocking noise.

 So, I cautiously walked back through my bedroom, into the half bath. I could still hear it. I still have paper on my windows as curtains, so I cautiously lifted one corner and peeked underneath through the window. (you should have seen me…kind of a scaredy cat). 

And there, folks, was the “knocker” on my windowsill. He had on a little spotted coat of feathers because I think he was a Spotted Woodpecker, who obviously didn’t really know what he was doing. 

So, I politely asked him, “What are you doing pecking on my windowsill?”

“Do you want something?”

He didn’t answer, but boy, did he ever take a good long look at the funny face staring at him through the window. I’m not sure who was more surprised, he or I.

This has had me thinking all day long today. If I had not been paying attention, I wouldn’t have heard the knocking and I wouldn’t have had that conversation.

I want to learn to pay attention. Always. 

So, I don’t miss fun things like this.

Little things that brighten my day and bring joy.

I want to learn.

Blessings to you, friend!

~Anne