Exploring Silence

"Words.

Both Characters and Words.

NONE!"

These are the first few words that I hear as I begin to venture into silence.  The screen reading software that I use to access the computer automatically speaks each letter that I type.  But for this entry, I’d like to discover what happens when the characters flow into words and ultimately into sentences without the confirmation of synthesized speech.  Ready?  Let’s Roll.

I was talking with my roommate about an upcoming opportunity to share with a small group of women about the area in my life I’m asking God to help me with over the next few months.  As the conversation went along, I could internally feel this resistance to the idea of being still and silent in order to find what it was I need to work on with God.  What?  Where’d that come from? 

I’m the type that loves peaceful acoustic guitars, the sound of rain that helps me know my environment’s height, depth, and dimension, and can easily settle when I hear the rhythmic pattern of Denver’s snore.  But what happens when all of those things are taken away?  No music. No sounds. No repetition. 

As I imagined what that would be like, I ask, why do I have to imagine what that is like?  The honest answer is that I haven’t done it in so long.  Unconsciously or even intentionally, I have become dependent on creating an environment that is filled with sound, movement, and structure in order to block the things that scare me the most.  The opposite of sound is silence which in my mind equates to isolation.  Without movement, there’s regression. And without structure, I have come to fear chaos and unpredictability.   But those are extremes.  Why is it that my mind automatically defaults to thinking that the only possibility is an extreme of what I’m comfortable with?  Can my thoughts be more than static state, more than 0’s or 1’s? 

So even with recognizing that isolation, regression, and chaos are only the leading edge of my fears.  I think what I probably have come to fear the most is the idea of not knowing where my own thoughts can take me.  Not to say that they would always lead me to destruction or peril.  But just the idea of asking would my thoughts indicate something deeper? Like what’s really in my heart which would also reflect who I am or who I have allowed myself to become.  But even more so importantly is “would” I be able to hear God’s voice, recognize His presence, know that I am not alone, and be willing to surrender to His desires for my life.  The outcome that I hope for is vulnerability for myself with my own thoughts, vulnerability with those I share life with, and ultimately vulnerability with God. 

In just venturing into this concept of silence and letting my thoughts take clearer shape and form, it makes me think of Elijah as he fled for his life in 1 Kings Chapter 16.  Elijah was fleeing from something he possibly feared, his life.  He reached a level of exhaustion.  And when his body succumbed to physical and I am assuming emotional exhaustion, God provided an angel to give food and nourishment.  With that, he began a journey that leads him to a cave where the word of the Lord begins to speak to him.  Now this part gets into some theological gymnastics that I hope to explore in the future, but what I do understand now is that while Elijah was in the cave and just before he steps out on the mountain top, Scripture gives us this… 

¹¹ The Lord said, “Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.” Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. ¹² After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper.

¹³ When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave. (1 Kings 16:11-13, NIV 1984)

What is standing out to me is that Elijah allowed isolation in order to find God, he was honest with God about his own fears, and was willing to listen for God even in silence and even in chaos.

So here is my prayer for this entry…

Lord, Thank you for giving me direct access to be able to share with you the desires, fears, groans, and worries of my heart.  Teach me Father to use this privilege and not to flee from it.  Gently show me how to remove self-created barriers, defenses, and walls that prevent me from learning more of who You are and seeing how you have created me.  Finally, Father, give me a willing spirit to explore and discover silence and stillness in hopes that it uncovers mystery, strength, security, peace, and passion.

Amen