Silence

“My soul, wait in silence for God only, for my hope is from Him.” Psalm 62:5

This gift of silence, of a quiet inner stillness, is a treasure deeply hidden and seldom mined. We live bombarded by noise. Our minds are assaulted by a cacophony of discordant decibels from the ringing of the alarm to the final click of the TV remote. Combined with the visual noise bouncing off our phones, laptops, and video games, it’s no wonder we exist in a state of perpetual exhaustion. Our eyes and ears and minds struggle to find rest as we race from one urgent racket to another, day after day. Moments of silence are rare, even in our worship services, even in our quiet times with the Lord. We are uncomfortable with silence; we don’t know what to do with it.

I realize that the unending chatter of the mundane often deafens me to the whispered calls of my heavenly Father. I don’t hear Him speak to me because I’m listening to the urgent noises around me. My prayer time is frequently filled up with the litany of my words and a hasty “Amen” without allowing any time to simply listen. In this, I miss the opportunity for intimacy with Jesus, the blessing of knowing Him more, and I believe that grieves His Father’s heart.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about my dad. He died October 9, 1990, and even after 32 years, I still miss him. One of my favorite memories happened on an ordinary Saturday morning in the fall of my 11^th year. Dad had been working in the yard all morning, and the back of his old 1957 Ford pick-up was full of bags of leaves and pruned branches. My chores finished; I was sitting on the step engrossed in a new library book when Dad noticed me. “I’m going to the dump, Snooks. Want to ride along?” I didn’t hesitate but closed the book and jumped in the truck alongside my dad. He smiled at me and off we went. What is extraordinary about that time is that Dad and I were silent the whole way out of town to the dump and the whole way back, and I was conscious of a closeness and contentment I had no words to describe. To this day when I smell the perfume of fallen leaves and dried cornstalks that is the essence of Autumn, I am transported back to that day when the warm breeze ruffled my hair through open windows, and the rough weave of the seat cushions left indentions in my bare legs, and I luxuriated in silence with my daddy. Back at home, he smiled at me again, handed me my book and we both went back to doing Saturday. As I hopped out of that pick-up, however, I understood somehow that I had received a priceless gift, intentionally chosen, and gifted especially for me from a father who loved me without question. That day I connected with my Daddy’s heart and he connected with mine.

God uses silence and stillness in my life in much the same way Dad used that long ago trip to the dump. When I pause to quiet my soul and wait in silence for Him, I connect with my Father’s heart. The deafening noise of the world fades, and I clearly hear Him whisper my name. These are the moments of intimacy that grow and deepen my faith. His Word speaks truth into my own heart. Sin is uncovered and confessed, praise and worship flow freely, and I hear Him singing over me in love. Hope is renewed as I yield to His sovereignty, and I am refreshed.

This doesn’t happen by chance and it is not without cost. Just as I had to close my new library book and hop into that old Ford pick-up, I need to intentionally make time for silence and solitude in the routine of my daily life. Jesus is waiting. He is there in the everyday moments that make up my day. I don’t want to miss the opportunity to sit next to Him!

Father, help me today to “be still and know that You are God.” Help me to mine the treasure of silence and solitude, and to wait silently before You. Open my ears to hear You whisper my name and hold me so close that I can hear the beat of Your heart above every other sound around me. Let my silent stillness be the music of worship, the song of praise to You alone and for Your glory.