The Voice in Fragile Silence

Pairing my favorite writing music, Chopin, with the sound of the summer rain, I made my way to the front porch this morning. Picking up my pen, journal, coffee and Bible along the way, I sat quietly waiting for actual words to translate from thought to ink on the page. As the dogs played in the rain (or avoided it all together), the words came in waves like the sprinkle to deluge coming from the sky. Today, this is my time of quiet.

It’s hard to be quiet, not meaning the absence of sound, but the stilling of my mind and heart. I choose to put aside my things to-do, things to think through and things to plan out. Distractions are numerous, roosting in the tree in front of me and singing a siren song of urgency, people, prayers, must-dos, needs, when am I going to-dos, whys, how comes, contingency plans and don’t forgets. Each feathered member of the flock is chirping in my mental ear, saying pay attention to me because I’m important. And, they are – but in the scale of priorities, this must rank higher.

This time is when I consciously choose to seek the gentle whisper of a voice in a fragile silence that is easy to miss. My spirit craves this time, my heart is strengthened by its power. Why? What happens? As I sit here, it would appear to be a time that is nothing more miraculous than the goodness of another day. But, it is when I am quiet in mind and heart I can hear God’s voice best. 

Though not an audible voice, he makes himself heard nonetheless. Like sitting in companionable silence with a friend, this is a comfortable place to be this morning. I can trust the words my friend, my God, says. He waits and encourages me to listen, an act of love. This is where I am stretched and challenged to be more like Christ. This is where I can run when the journey is too much for my strength. This is where I can turn when I am broken over the cry of my heart. This is my place of navigational refocus when I am stymied on which path to take, especially when there are many great options available. This is where I am redirected when I have made poor choices. This is my greatest place of praise, celebrating those abundant everyday miracles.

And the response of that gentle whisper, many times it feels like the answer Elijah hears, “What are you doing here,” from 1 Kings 19:9b. Different emphasis can be placed on distinct words in that question and subtly change the meaning.

                What are you doing here?

                                What are you doing here?

                                                What are you doing here?

                                                                What are you doing here?

                                                                                What are you doing here?

I find my responses to this question come in the same starts and stops as the writing does, as I pause to think through each phrase. Praise, friendship, connectedness, supplication, restoration, protection, hope, the need to hear that voice – The Voice, that is my motivation. That is why I am here.

I say the silence is fragile because it can be easily broken. It demands a discipline and desire from me to actively step away from my calendared, socially connected world of IMs, emails, texts, posts and messages to focus elsewhere. It is time for me to listen and hear from the most important messenger, to hear from God.

Being Still When the Lights Go Out

It was a dark and stormy night when the lightning flashed, the thunder clapped, and the lights flickered twice before fading into a vacuum of darkness…

Okay, that didn’t actually happen.  It is cloudy, and the evening is late and becoming dim.  But the night has not really settled in yet, and there were no dramatic moments – the lights went out in the blink of an eye.  The why and how long of the power outage is still to be determined; in the meanwhile sitting in a quiet and darkening house surrounded by wonderful smelling candles and sleeping dogs is not a terrible interruption to the constantly connected electrical world we live in.  This gives me a chance to put pen to paper, sit in the glow of a pine candle (my favorite scent), and write on what paper I could find using my phone as a flash light.  The paper could be gray or maybe lavender, it’s hard to tell with the low light fading the colors out.  But, in the midst of this outage, I think it would be an ideal time to be still. 

When I have an opportunity to be still, I realize afresh how I crave this more than my routine indicates.  After coming back from a time that involved stillness, I find myself wanting this more frequently.  In the presence of everyday life, my sense of mental equilibrium can apparently settle into something not entirely good because stillness tends to leave me falling into an exhausted sleep.  When I do get a period of quiet, enforced by a power outage though it may be, it can draw attention to the need to be still and regain balance.

“Be still and know that I am God” you say.  Be still.  Still. Still.  Still moving.  Still squirming.  Still yacking about irrelevant things.  Still having conversations in my head.  Still not focused.  Still not listening.  Still not having a mental slow down.  Still trying.  Still straining to listen.  Still settling.  Still need to add that last item to my list.  Still, be still. That is generally when the phone rings, the e-mail arrives, the dog barks, the calendared event starts, or I just fall asleep.  Be still I say to myself!  You are supposed to be still and know.  Can’t I know that God is God while moving about?  This still thing is awfully difficult.  I tend toward curiosity and I wonder why be still?  Why not be quiet and know or be noisy and know – I could probably accomplish that a lot better than being still. 

The lights just came back on.  My thanks to the power crew that is working tonight.  I do like our electrical conveniences.  In the growing darkness though, I did have a moment when stillness started.  After one of the moments the dogs of insisted we go out, I tried to be still.  When I’m still, I don’t hear myself moving about.  I hear the patter of a gentle rain starting to fall.  I hear night sounds as frogs and crickets perform virtuoso lullabies.  I smell the awakening smell of spring warmed earth, new leaves, and the beginnings of spring blooms.  Be still and know. 

Be still is not the easiest thing for me, but I can understand why I need to be still.  I need to hear God and readjust my direction to move forward.  My direction right now is to be still a little more often – it’s like a vacation for the soul.  

Snow Melt

   After a few days of sunshine and warmer temperatures, the fluffy white stuff is starting to turn to little streams and spongy earth. I have noticed over the last years that around trees and bushes the snow melts first. The warmth of the trunk and the roots creates a warmer area of ground and the snow melts faster. If you have grown up around snow, this may just be an accepted part of winter melting. But, why does that happen?

   The truck of the tree is darker and absorbs more heat in the light than the white snow does. The tree is also much more than meets the eye on the surface. A whole other part of the tree sits underground, sheltered by the deeper earth and containing a greater degree of heat. They work together and soon that snow melts off much faster than what is in the neighboring field.
   So, can we learn anything from that that applies back to people? Sure! We all experience snow, the frozen condensation that piles up and up and up in life. Will it ever melt? The deeper the roots, the more protected we are from the frost that is permeating the ground. The trunk stands strong and holds the heat, it just stands and holds that heat, storing it up for usage. We need to plant our roots deep, by digging into the Word. In our busy world, we also need to stand still and soak in the warmth of Jesus. We don’t have to run around like a crazy person to enjoy the presence of Jesus.   
   So, as the snow melts, take a look at the trees. Enjoy your roots, stretch out, be still, and enjoy the presence and warmth of Jesus.