Entering into moments of silence is an incomparable benefit to my spirit. It’s amazing how often this truth eludes me, however. I let the pace of life swindle me of moments that could be spent in simple stillness. Any time that is unaccounted for is quickly allocated to meaningless, but often necessary tasks. But the silence beckons me when I neglect it for too long; it always has.
I found a few minutes to breathe in the crisp spring air early this morning with a cup of coffee. The silence immediately caused my spirit to awaken after lying dormant for a few days, causing silent prayer to rise from my heart like the morning mist over the field behind my house. Suddenly, I could inhale and exhale, long and slow, after days of quick, shallow breathes.
What instills in us this natural aversion to silence? Why do we often fear the quiet? I think it could have something to do with man’s fear of obscurity. Insignificance and anonymity have become some of the greatest worries of Western civilization. Most everyone feels, whether they admit it or not, that they have some great gift or trait that will one day surface and thrust them into the spotlight, and they’ll have to “humbly” accept the burden of their own fame. (Unfortunately, I think this is the unspoken dream of pastors and worship leaders across the country.) But Isaiah says that the result of righteousness is quietness and confidence (i.e. trust), not pride and popularity. If I am silent and still before God, I am not striving to be something other than myself. I’m forced to exist as I am in my true state; a servant to the Master. Moments spent in silence often strip us of our own narcissistic sense of self-importance and remind us that we are just a tiny granule in a very large and complex creation. May silence teach us, and give a renewed clarity to the voice of our Master.
I found a few minutes to breathe in the crisp spring air early this morning with a cup of coffee. The silence immediately caused my spirit to awaken after lying dormant for a few days, causing silent prayer to rise from my heart like the morning mist over the field behind my house. Suddenly, I could inhale and exhale, long and slow, after days of quick, shallow breathes.
What instills in us this natural aversion to silence? Why do we often fear the quiet? I think it could have something to do with man’s fear of obscurity. Insignificance and anonymity have become some of the greatest worries of Western civilization. Most everyone feels, whether they admit it or not, that they have some great gift or trait that will one day surface and thrust them into the spotlight, and they’ll have to “humbly” accept the burden of their own fame. (Unfortunately, I think this is the unspoken dream of pastors and worship leaders across the country.) But Isaiah says that the result of righteousness is quietness and confidence (i.e. trust), not pride and popularity. If I am silent and still before God, I am not striving to be something other than myself. I’m forced to exist as I am in my true state; a servant to the Master. Moments spent in silence often strip us of our own narcissistic sense of self-importance and remind us that we are just a tiny granule in a very large and complex creation. May silence teach us, and give a renewed clarity to the voice of our Master.
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