Silence

Why do I worry and agonize endlessly over the small things -
And forget how big God is?

"Be still and know that I am God." (Psalm 46:10)

What do you think of when you hear the word "silence"? I used to think of my bus driver who would scream "SHUT UP!" about 5 times every morning, from kindergarten to 11th grade, or the dreaded time-out, which later became "quiet room" and ultimately - detention. But lately, I've seen silence a bit differently. It's waking up at 7 am before anyone else is stirring to sit on the front porch with coffee or laying outside on the hammock - watching the sky for a shooting star. And it's in those places that I've heard God speak. Not to mention the healing that has come from this sacred silence over the past months - because man, did I need it. One of my favorite stories of all time is 1 Kings 19. Elijah is fleeing from an angry King Jezebel to Mount Sinai, and here's what God does at the top.

Then he was told, "Go, stand on the mountain at attention before God. God will pass by." A hurricane wind ripped through the mountains and shattered the rocks before God, but God wasn't to be found in the wind; after the wind an earthquake, but God wasn't in the earthquake; and after the earthquake fire, but God wasn't in the fire; and after the fire a gentle and quiet whisper. When Elijah heard the quiet voice, he muffled his face with his great cloak, went to the mouth of the cave, and stood there. A quiet voice asked, "So Elijah, now tell me, what are you doing here?"

We often cry out to God, "hey! Do something big!" but He is waiting for us in the stillness, in the silence. God is quite contradictory. As I'm preparing to go, I feel like He is trying to tell me, "Be still and know that I am God." But the amazing thing is, worrying about the small things - like the MAT I want to take on Friday for grad school, which malaria pills to get, or my vaccinations that cost a lot more than I thought they would so now I may not be able to get fully reimbursed - does not help. What does help is finding a quiet place and saying "God, help me with this, I need you to carry this for me, it's giving me a headache and hindering me from getting anything done." Man, it looks so simple in hindsight.

I leave you with an excerpt from Come Away My Beloved, Frances Roberts:

I have waited for you to wear yourself out. I knew you would find it eventually - the secret of silence and rest, of solitude and of song. I will rebuild your strength - not to work again in foolish frenzy, but just for the sake of making you strong and well.