Sometimes my mind seems closed, devoid of anything constructive, meaningful or insightful. Mental fatigue finally catching up with physical exhaustion.
So, I dig a little deeper. I think a little harder. I ponder a little longer. Expending all of this effort in hopes of uncovering wonderful words, beautiful stories to fill this blank page. And yet, I must admit this unusual silence feels refreshing.
Sometimes silence is exactly what I need.
Like the stillness in my home during the early morning hours. If I listen closely, I can hear the clock ticking, the birds outside my window singing, and other early risers driving down my dark, sleepy street. I love those quiet morning hours, especially when I invite God into them. The calmness and peace they usher into my heart is a welcome start to my day.
I’m reminded of the ocean’s roar. Although it’s noisy, it’s a soothing kind of noise. One that mutes the chatter of other beach-goers and muffles the cries of nearby seagulls. One that dissipates any thoughts of things-I-should-be-doing. The wind howls, the waves smash against the shore, but I only hear silence. I welcome it. I find rest in it. Truly amazing and delightful rest. I soak it in, never wanting to leave.
I’m reminded of time spent with a precious friend. When you’re so comfortable with one another that wordless moments are few, but when they do occur, it’s perfectly okay. The silence is not awkward. Your mind is not racing to keep the conversation alive. Instead, your togetherness is enough. There is no better place to be than in the presence of those you love.
I will choose to be still in it. To allow it to wrap around me, awakening me to its hidden blessings – blessings I might otherwise have missed. I will sit with the memories I typically rush past.
I will consider friends, family and acquaintances whose names drift through my mind. Do they need prayer? Encouragement? Someone to simply show they care?
I will listen for God’s voice in this beautiful silence. It is there. He is there.
Embracing me as I embrace the silence.