Accepting Peaceful Silence

I waited patiently for the LORD to help me, and he turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the pit of despair, out of the mud and the mire. He set my feet on solid ground and steadied me as I walked along. Psalm 40:1-2

Just as Colleen’s prayer led her to the truth about her boyfriend, Allison’s prayer led her to face the truth about what her loneliness was causing her to do. Following her divorce, she had kept her schedule so filled, her friends rarely found her home. She went to movies, attended every special presentation at the fine arts center, and if nothing else was interesting, strolled the mall looking for the latest bargains. After several weeks of watching her frantically run from one activity to the next, a coworker teasingly asked what she was running from. The comment touched a nerve.

That night Allison forced herself to sit quietly in her living room for five minutes. In those quiet moments, she realized she indeed had been running to avoid being alone.

She leaned back against the sofa. Lord, I’m afraid of the silence in this house. I’m afraid of being alone. So help me to make friends with this place and with myself.

She went to bed early that night, but the next day she made a conscious effort to work on friendship with herself, beginning with a little pampering that involved more evening walks and bubble baths and fewer shopping trips.

She also realized she previously hadn’t enjoyed being home because it held so many sad memories. Once she decided to face the regrets filling each room and invite the Lord’s healing and forgiveness into each one, she found she could let go of those painful memories and be comfortable in her home.

We can follow Allison’s example. Once we’ve accepted the reality of our situations, we can begin working through them instead of running from them. Taking the time to discover who we are will reveal a far more interesting person than we ever dreamed. —SANDRA

Lord, I confess my endless activities and full social calendar mask my pain. After all, if I’m busy, I don’t have to listen to the silence around me. But that busyness also keeps me from hearing your voice. Help me not to be afraid of silence. Remind me that I hear you best in quiet moments.

I am not in the whirlwind of activity, but in the still, small voice of communion. Find it my child, and hold to it, and you will be energized.

—FRANCES J. ROBERTS, AUTHOR, POET, AND SONGWRITER

From the book