The library is quiet (almost). Except for the cell phone next to me whose owner forgot or just didn’t turn it off or the guy mumbling to himself in the corner, peppered by the occasional gruff swear word.
I say nothing and intensely focus on my reading. It bothers me nowadays how people have lost their sensitivity for others. Like when I go to the coffee shop, and the people across the way have their phone on high volume speaker.
As I am sitting in the library, I focus on what I can control: carefully putting my laptop on the desk, softly pushing the plug into the outlet, turning sounds on mute, and double checking my cell phone that it is still on silent. I still recall when librarians kept the library quiet so we can study and focus.
I am almost tempted to reserve one of those soundless rooms they have here, but it’s next to the front door, and I can’t quietly talk to you.
So here I am with the sun shining through the bay windows, watching traffic, and praying that my small group will have some volunteers on May 29. I have no power to change the world, but God can do anything. My offering to Him is this small group–a simple meeting once per month online on Google Plus.
As I sit here relishing the moment when we can build a private community, share prayer requests, and give each other emotional support, the guy in the corner sounds like he is sawing in half one of the tables in the room.