There was a place on the hill behind the farmhouse where grasses like spun honey kissed us, knee-high, and the Montana sunset would spread out across the horizon connecting both Poles and setting the sky on fire in a rumble of purple, orange, and white.
Sitting beside dusty sage bushes in the stillness of any summer evening, practicing silence was a given.
It was easy.
With one kid on the drum kit, the other one recording a song, the husband listening to some guy on YouTube and NCIS solving crime one Navy officer at a time, finding mental space for silence is often even harder than it sounds.
Practicing silence begins from the inside out. Practicing silence is a process; an achieved state of being stemming from one single verse:
“…Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content.” Phillipians 4:11
Finding silence and the peace that can be there, waiting for you, comes when we are finding the beauty of contentment.
The ability to begin practicing silence will come when the striving ceases.
As we quit grasping for answers, for someone else’s blessing, for the perfect scenario for easy silence, often the elusive truth whispered to us by our big brother, Paul, becomes resoundingly clear.
Then, and only then, do the ripples disturbing the pools of soul subside…
And, when the ripples abandon the pond the gift they give us is the stillness of quiet and reflection where we can see as we are seen.
Practice contentment. Practice silence. Practice reflection.
Find a depth to Shabbat you never imagined.
Leaning on Him,
Started this little series here: Cultivating the Discipline of Silence
Continued here: The Gift of Silence