Silence

There's something incredibly intriguing about the effect that silence can have on a person. It has many comforting qualities and can be a place of retreat after a busy day. In silence you can rest, unwind, and feel a tremendous sense of peace as the silence overcomes the chaotic sounds that bombarded you with stress throughout the day. There is relief when you're finally alone and the sense of urgency that many tasks require throughout the day is gone. We seek quiet time to revitalize all the parts of us that have been drained emotionally, physically, mentally, and spiritually that day.

However, there is no such thing as true silence. There is always a faint sound: the sound of your breathing, the beating of your heart, a distant cricket chirping outside of your window or a low buzz as the heater turns on. Even that much silence can be uncomfortable. There is a certain level of silence that we normally crave. The type of silence I've just described is unsettling and can even be frightening. We're comfortable with background noise, whether it's the low volume of the television or radio, the sound of rain drops lightly beating on your window, or the humming of your engine as you drive home after a long day. Our definition of silence has become "less noise." With less sound, loneliness can be masked. The rain droplets can comfort you with their presence and consistency, the hum of your engine can form a pattern you cling to and can expect as you accelerate or slow down. The radio and television help drown out thoughts that could otherwise consume us.

The closest we can ever get to silence can be unbearable, almost as if the silence takes on a persona. What we typically seek can quickly become an enemy. The silence reveals its lonely characteristics and its emptiness leaves you with nothing but yourself. Silence screams lies. It uses falsehoods and unwanted thoughts relentlessly until you seek something to force it away and drown it out. How can something we seek out for its good qualities also carry such evil? It leads me to wonder: do we fear silence? Or, do we fear the loneliness and emptiness accompanied by it? Or, do we truly fear ourselves?

When there is silence, your thoughts rapidly unravel. Instead of playing in your head and being replayed in similar forms and pushed away throughout the day, they go deeper and get explored. You face things you never intended to. Your insecurities greet you the moment silence is in effect. My worries consume me when in silence. The silence confirms my fears, it traps me further in myself, and distances me more and more from reality. In that moment, my body dies, but my mind comes alive. Silence uses its lies to reach my weakest parts, the things I usually keep hidden. It hacks into my desires and tightens the tug that sin has on me. Silence leaves no mystery. There's no denying who you are with nothing to keep you from exploring deep within yourself. Those well-kept secrets, insecurities, worries, short-comings, and weaknesses are all at the forefront of your mind, competing for your undivided attention; simultaneously screaming things you usually can ignore.

Yet silence can be used for a greater good. We can hear the things our hearts are longing to hear. The soft wooing of God; beckoning us toward him, inviting us into His arms, greeting us with truth and an embrace as opposed to the unwelcoming response we get from our mind that's filled with lies. In silence, you can feel the love, protection, and comfort that only the heart of the Father can give. The loneliness of silence is deceiving, because we are never alone. In silence, we're resting in the shadow of the Almighty ("Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.” Psalm 91:1). In those quiet moments we can fully come before God, bare our souls, pour out our hearts, and lay our burdens at the foot of the cross.

Silence: is it a blessing, or a curse? I think that the answer is up to us and how we use the silent times we're given. If we allow our wheels to turn and begin to believe the lies we're being fed or feeding ourselves, we're creating something out of silence for which it wasn’t intended. Instead, we can voice those thoughts to God, offer it all to Him and be filled in return with truth. Silence is a time where God can work on our hearts: convicting, comforting, molding and changing it to help us grow. It comes down to this: are we allowing ourselves to become victims of ourselves? I’ve heard many people say that they are their own worst enemy. How much of that can we attribute to our human nature, sinful desires, or situations we created for ourselves? God never promised things would be easy. In fact, He said, "...In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." John 16:33

There's something so warm and comforting in that verse. It is the same comfort received when a father promises his child, "Things won't always be easy, but I'll make it okay. You're safe with me. I can handle everything you can't." How comforting that would be to a crying daughter, looking up at her father with adoring eyes and tear-stained cheeks, trusting him completely in his promise. It's the child-like faith we all wish to possess. I'd like to think that same peace, comfort, and reassurance can be obtained by us if we imagine ourselves on the lap of the Heavenly Father who is resting on His throne.

There is a promise to cling to that out of hardships will come a blessing. Out of pain comes new found strength, a greater faith, wisdom, and a deep change that could only come from Him. A chapter in a devotional book I once read said this: "I have observed that change seldom occurs without struggle, whether it's a caterpillar wriggling free of his cocoon to fly or a person squiggling free of addiction to rise with new found liberty." The author failed to mention the equivalent beauty of both: being reborn and made new.

I can't even begin to tell you how many times I've prayed for strength to continue while riding out and enduring this storm. It isn't always easy to cling to the promise of the incredible things that are ahead when they feel so out of reach. In times that it seems unbearable, that I’m crying out to God and pleading for His arms to wrap around me but I can’t feel Him near; I try to repeat to myself the things that I know and the promises God has made for my life no matter how unobtainable they feel. I know that He will always provide. Prayer is a time for conversation with God; conversation takes two people. How often do we talk to God, but don’t sit and quiet our hearts while we wait for His response?

Too often I focus on the negative aspects of silence. I know it’s solely based on a fear of myself. I fear my emotions, my pain, and everything I push away finally coming to head. I fear the memories, the nightmares, and the effect of the lies that I tell myself. I’m afraid of what I’ll do if I allow myself to feel instead of denying the existence of these demons in my life. I don’t associate silence with only one thing. I do seek it at the end of the day as every fiber of my being yearns to unwind. The times that I can’t avoid silence are the times I fear. Those moments I feel incredibly alone. I see the life I’ve created and the hand I’ve been dealt but no matter how much I cry out to God all I feel is the distance between us.

What if I stopped avoiding the silence? What if I prayed for God to change my view of it? Silence would be a gift and a treasured time alone with my Father as I sit on His lap and share my joys and my sorrows. It would be a time where He could tell me the things I need to hear or offers me soothing words to hold on to that provide hope that's been lost. He may remind me of His love for me, tell me I've made him proud, reassure me that I’ll be okay, or promise that He will always protect me. It’s time that I start using silence with the purpose it was given when it was created instead of the darkness I associate it with. It’s time for that little girl with tear-stained cheeks to get the comfort she dreams about.