As I grow older, I notice that I seek the shelter of silence more and more. In years gone by I would flip on the television or music when I was alone. But now, given the option, I turn off everything. It allows the quiet to settle inside my ruffled places, inside the voices of the day and hushes them. I need the quiet to balance the frenetic in my life. I need the quiet to discern Christ’s voice from all of the others.
Sometimes Christ’s voice to me is a waterfall, and I couldn’t miss it on the freeway during rush hour, but usually it’s a soft rain, a gentle breeze, or even a whisper and I must lean in to hear.
The quiet gives me opportunity to sort myself out in God’s presence. Thats when I stop any pretending and excusing. The stillness gives me space for confession and petitions. I open the stained glass window of my soul. My heart finds centeredness in God’s grace.