I don’t often have the opportunity for quiet. Or maybe I just don’t make the time for quiet.
I’m not sure which it is, maybe a bit of both. But when I do have a moment of solace. Quiet. I find peace and calm. It is intriguing to me how the absence of sound (other than the dog snoring on the couch beside me) can fill me up. Just sitting, alone with my own thoughts, if only for a moment. It is peaceful.
I have always been a very social person, being fed by the energy of interaction with others. But the older I get, the more I value the solitary moments. Not instead of interaction, but filling a different part of my soul. Maybe it’s another of God’s ways of preparing me for the life ahead. The days when my home will be silent more than chaotic. When the quiet of my living room will become deafeningly loud. The days when I will look back fondly remembering the wrestling matches in the middle of the living room. For the days when I will control the remote and miss the fights over what to watch. It is hard to see what is on the horizon and not feel a little apprehensive. Its a delicate balance between anticipating what is to come, not letting yourself be caught off guard, and continuing to be present in the here and now. Being careful not to worry or wish my life away. I guess that is the fine line I have been walking since a begged and pleaded for a full night’s sleep with a newborn or wished for just a day without a “why” from my toddler. Life is always changing. Thankfully. My challenge is to anticipate change, embrace it, welcome it, and yet be present in the moment. Not spending too much energy on the what ifs.
Silence allows me that room. The place where I can let go of the chaos of life, hear my own thoughts and maybe even dream a bit. Process life’s big events and the tiny ones too. Silence might be a good practice for this Advent season. Making room in my life for what God wants me to hear.