Waiting For The Echo / Joshua Alan Sturgill
I saw a monk keeping vigil by a well, and I asked him why he was praying there rather than in the Church.
“I was waiting for the echo,” he said.
When I inquired what he meant by this, he explained he had once traveled broadly, stopping at every well he could find and shouting the Name of God into each one.
“But they all immediately echoed back to me in my own voice. They were too shallow.”
“So what makes this well different from the others?” I asked.
“This is the well where God answered me.”
“With an echo?”
He smiled. “When I came to this well, I shouted God’s Name into it just like before. I shouted many times, but no echo ever came back.”
“If no answer ever came back,” I asked, somewhat confused, “then how did God speak?”
“That’s why I keep vigil here,” he said. “Because of this well, I learned we can only call on God with patience, and only in silence can we hear Him reply.”
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