Tag Archives: Quiet

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The Filling Station

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The Filling Station (CaD Dan 6) – Wayfarer

Now when Daniel learned that the decree had been published, he went home to his upstairs room where the windows opened toward Jerusalem. Three times a day he got down on his knees and prayed, giving thanks to his God, just as he had done before.
Daniel 6:10 (NIV)

Along my life journey as a disciple of Jesus and wayfaring stranger, I’ve learned that the path of the Spirit is one of developing spiritual disciplines that, in turn, birth spiritual rhythms as I press on toward my destination. My daily time in the quiet is like a “filling station” on my life journey. I mean “filling station” metaphorically in the old sense of the world before GPS and cell phones. In those days, stopping at a “filling station” was not only about filling up on energy and provision, but also an opportunity to look at the state map that hung on every filling station’s wall. Wayfarers would stand and stare at the map to check their location and their destination to make sure they were on track. You might ask for directions or advice about the road ahead. You would gauge how far you’d come, and how far you had to go to the next waypoint.

Today’s chapter is another one of the more famous stories within the Great Story. The book of Daniel is filled with them, reminding God’s people that the exile in Babylon was not about God abandoning them, but about God’s faithfulness in the worst of times. It was about learning to trust God in the hardest stretches of life’s road.

The new ruler of Babylon is conned into declaring that, for one month, anyone who prays to any man or deity other than the ruler of Babylon will be thrown into the lions’ den. They did this knowing that Daniel prayed to God multiple times daily, and they guessed that he would not obey the decree just as his friends Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego refused to bow to Nebuchadnezzar back in the day.

Daniel’s enemies were correct. I thought it fascinating that after hearing about the decree, Daniel went home to kneel and pray “as he had always done before.” He wasn’t hitting his knees just because of the decree, he was hitting his knees because it’s what he always did, every day, three times a day. He had developed a spiritual discipline that gave birth to the spiritual rhythms of trust, faith, and perseverance. We are not told what Daniel said when they came for him, but I imagine it was a form of the same thing his friends said when threatened with the fiery furnace: “My God will save me, but even if He does not, I will never pray to anyone or anything but the God of Heaven.

Daniel’s faith did not present itself miraculously at the moment he needed it. Each day along his life journey, Daniel disciplined himself to spiritually stop and visit the filling station. Each day, with each stop, Daniel’s faith grew, developed, stretched, and was exercised so that he was fully prepared to trust God when life’s road led in and through the lions’ den.

Filled up with that thought this morning, it’s time for me to pull out of the filling station and head back out on life’s road.

Today’s featured image created with Wonder AI.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

Between Quiet and Noise

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Between Quiet and Noise (CaD Matt 14) – Wayfarer

After [Jesus] had dismissed [the crowd], he went up on a mountainside by himself to pray. Later that night, he was there alone…
Matthew 14:23 (NIV)

I remember seeing a news story many years ago that talked about a special breed of audiophiles who try to get high-definition recordings of pure nature sounds. They’re the ones who record the sounds that end up on our noise machines or sound effect apps that help us sleep at night. This particular news story was about the fact that their job is getting increasingly harder. The problem is that the noise of civilization is crowding in everywhere, making it difficult to find the pure sounds of creation without planes, trains, automobiles, and cells phones interrupting.

Caught between the quiet and the noise of life. Now there’s a metaphor that resonates with me.

Today’s chapter begins with the unjust and tragic execution of John the Baptist, who was killed because a spoiled, drunken, frat-boy king got turned on watching his niece/step-daughter shake her booty at his high society soiree. Promising to grant her any wish, her mother prompted her to ask for John’s head on a platter.

John’s disciples bury the body and immediately find Jesus to tell him the news. I find it so easy to dehumanize Jesus as I read and reread the stories. Today, I found myself imagining Jesus’ reaction to the news. John was Jesus’ cousin, born within a few months of one another. Their mothers experienced miraculous conceptions and pregnancies together. They knew one another since they were kids. Our daughters Taylor and Madison each have a cousin born within months of one another. I’ve witnessed the special bond they continue to have. That was Jesus and John. Just a few chapters ago, Jesus said of his cousin, “There is no one greater than John!”

When Jesus hears the news, Matthew records that He immediately got in a boat and withdrew to a solitary place. How human. Being fully human, Jesus is going to grieve in all of the emotional stages of human grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, then acceptance. He wants to be alone.

In the quiet privacy of a boat, Jesus seeks an equally quiet, solitary place out in nature to be alone, to grieve. But He can’t escape the din of civilization:

Hearing of this, the crowds followed him on foot from the towns.

By the time Jesus lands onshore in a solitary place, the crowd is already assembled. He can’t escape.

I felt that tension this morning as I read about Jesus healing the sick, working miracles, and feeding the thousands. Inside, He’s grieving. Inside, He’s tired. Inside, He just wants to be left alone.

The need to be alone in the quiet leads Jesus to send the disciples on ahead in the boat. Jesus dismisses the crowd.

After Jesus had dismissed the crowd, he went up on a mountainside by himself to pray.

In the quiet this morning, I found myself identifying with the tension that Jesus must have felt at that moment. I feel the pull to quiet. I need to withdraw, to feel, to ponder, to pray, to rest, to sit in the silence. But, life doesn’t stop. The task list that’s never empty, the needs of loved ones, the deadlines at work, the commitments I’ve made, the friends’ requests, the responsibilities of everyday life… every time I withdraw to a solitary place, I find them all noisily waiting for me when I arrive.

Jesus had compassion. Jesus took care of the crowds, but He didn’t give up on His need for quiet. If anything, the crowds only intensified His determination to make it happen. No crowds, no disciples even.

“Hey! Everyone? Leave me.”

Along this life journey, I’ve learned that quiet time is necessary. I may not always succeed in shutting out the world and finding the quiet. I may find the quiet only to find it encroached by interruptions. Like Jesus, I don’t want to get angry with the interrupters. I want to be compassionate. I also don’t want to give up seeking quiet. It may just have to intensify my effort to find it.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

Finding Contentment

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Finding Contentment (CaD Ps 131) – Wayfarer

But I have calmed and quieted myself,
    I am like a weaned child with its mother;
    like a weaned child I am content.
Psalm 131:2 (NIV)

Sometimes, I think our world lives in a perpetual state of discontent…

Businesses thrive on making me feel discontent that I don’t have this or that.

The magazine rack at the grocery store thrives on making me feel discontented with my body, my looks, my home, and the fact that my life isn’t a Chip and Joanna fairytale.

The news thrives on making me feel discontent with the state of current events and seems to want to keep me focused on fear about everything from the fact that more people are killed each year by vending machines than sharks to the probabilities that the President could push the nuclear button and end the world.

The social media feeds I occasionally follow for my favorite sports teams seem to be 90% discontented fans discontentedly ranting about every loss, every player who’s in a funk, every move the GM makes, and every season that doesn’t end with a championship.

No matter what side of the political aisle you reside there is discontent that the other side exists and that your side doesn’t rule the world.

Social media feeds that I mindlessly scroll through can so easily feed a spirit of discontent that my life doesn’t look like that person’s life.

I sometimes wonder if discontent is such a prevalent and pervasive part of everyday life that I am deaf, dumb, and blind to its omnipresence.

How easily I forget that the serpent’s playbook in the Garden of Eden was to stir discontent within Adam and Eve.

Today’s chapter, Psalm 131, is a short ditty written by King David. It’s just three verses long, but I found the spirit of the lyrics to be so refreshing on a Friday at the end of a busy week. “I have quieted and calmed myself,” he sings. He has centered down in his spirit. He has blocked out all the things he can’t control. He has sought out and found a place of contentment.

In the quiet this morning, I find my soul longing for that place, too. I find it interesting that David claimed responsibility for finding contentment. So often I led to believe that contentment will come when I acquire that thing, when I get to that place in life, or when I make that much money, et cetera, et cetera, and et cetera. Contentment seems always to reside on life’s horizon, but David’s lyrics remind me that it’s found within me, in a humble, quieted, and calmed spirit.

I think I’ll end this post and spend a little more time in the quiet this morning.

Have a good weekend, my friend.

Chapter-a-Day

“Centering Down”

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"Centering Down" (CaD Ps 87) – Wayfarer

As they make music they will sing,
    “All my fountains are in you.”
Psalm 87:7 (NIV)

Just this last week there was news from the Gallup organization regarding an annual survey of mental health in America comparing respondents in 2020 to 2019. Given the tumultuous year we’ve experienced on almost every front, I’d expect the mental health of Americans to be strained. It was. The percent of individuals who rated their mental health as “excellent” dropped in every demographic presented in the data except one. Those who attended weekly religious services saw the only increase in the number of respondents who rated their mental health as “excellent.” Comparatively, there were double-digit declines of those who said they never or irregularly attended religious services.

A couple of weeks ago, Laine Korver was my guest on the Wayfarer Weekend Podcast and we talked about spiritual formation. I mentioned in that episode a brief period of time when I served among a local gathering of Jesus followers in the Quaker (a.k.a. the Society of Friends) tradition. It was fascinating for me because I had zero experience with the tradition and I quite honestly had a number of divergent theological views. Still, it turned out to be a great experience.

In the Friends tradition, regular “weekly meetings” (as they refer to what most churches would call a worship service) are held in silence. There is no order of service. In the silence, participants spiritually “center down.” In all of the traditions I’ve experienced as a follower of Jesus, it was the first time I’d experienced the practice of silence as a regular spiritual discipline. It was powerful, and I learned a lot during that stretch of my spiritual journey about my soul’s need for quiet.

Today’s chapter, Psalm 87 is a short song celebrating Jerusalem, or Mount Zion, which the ancient Hebrews believed was the center of God’s presence on earth and the cosmos. It is unique within the anthology we call the book of Psalms. It prophetically pictures the people from all of the nations coming to Jerusalem and acknowledging God, which parallels similar scenes in John’s Revelation.

What is also important about Psalm 87 is where it was placed by the editors who compiled the anthology. It is “centered” between four laments, two on each side. The bookends to Psalm 87 contain both a personal lament and a community lament expressing times of distress and as I’ve mentioned in previous posts the “center” is where the Hebrew songwriters tended to place what they believed was of key importance. By placing this call to God’s presence sandwiched between four laments the editors were metaphorically calling me as a reader to “center down” and come to God’s presence in the midst of my distress, both personal distress, and community/national distress. What I will find there, the song’s final line tells me is God’s “fountain” or “spring.” I couldn’t help but think of Jesus’ words:

“Everyone who drinks [water from this well] will get thirsty again and again. Anyone who drinks the water I give will never thirst—not ever. The water I give will be an artesian spring within, gushing fountains of endless life.” John 4:13-14 (MSG)

I find myself once again centering down in the quiet again this morning. It’s where I experience the flow, the spring, the spiritual fountain even in the middle of life’s distresses.

My mental health is excellent, thanks.

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The Nightwatch

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The Nightwatch (CaD Ps 63) – Wayfarer

On my bed I remember you;
    I think of you through the watches of the night.
Psalm 63:6 (NIV)

In yesterday’s post, I mentioned that I’ve always been a morning person. I also struggle with bouts of insomnia. For me, insomnia is waking up sometime after 1:00 a.m., usually around 3:00 a.m. My mind, even in the twilight between sleep and consciousness, starts to spin and ruminate on tasks that need to be accomplished and items that weigh heavy on my soul. Some mornings I gut it out and lay there quiet until I fall back asleep. Some mornings I get up and move to the couch downstairs where I put a movie or documentary on the television that I know so well I don’t need to pay attention, and I can sometimes get back to sleep. Yet other mornings, I go to my office to start my time of quiet with God early.

Those mornings that I opt to meet with God early, I tend to start by “praying the hours.” It’s an ancient tradition of praying prescribed prayers at various times of the day and night, knowing that you are joining with thousands, even millions, of other followers of Jesus in praying at the same time. I have a set of these “Hours” or “Offices” called The Night Offices by Phyllis Tickle. They are prayers specifically prescribed for the hours between 10:30 p.m. and 7:30 a.m:

The Office of Midnight (prayed between 10:30 p.m. – 1:30 a.m.)
The Office of the Night Watch (prayed between (1:30-4:30 a.m.)
The Office of the Dawn (prayed between (4:30-7:30 a.m.)

It’s usually during the Office of the Night Watch that I find myself, like David, thinking of God “in the watches of the night.”

I’ve always loved that metaphor. It comes from ancient times when walled cities were susceptible to surprise attacks from enemies in the dark of the night. “Watchmen” would be posted on the walls through the night to keep on the lookout for enemies approaching, or any other threat seeking to breach the wall or gates when they were least protected in and hidden in the dark of the night.

The final prayer of the Office of the Night Watch goes like this:

Now guide me waking, O Lord, and guard me sleeping; that awake I may watch with Christ, and asleep, I may rest in peace. Amen.

The word picture is a reminder to me that, spiritually speaking, Jesus always pulls the Nightwatch. I have this mental vision of Jesus standing on the walls in the dark. The Nightwatch is a lonely duty. In ancient times, there were often two assigned to keep each other awake as added protection. Two, alone together on the walls in the stillness of the night. All is quiet. The world is asleep. Nothing to do for hours but watch, and talk, as we wait for the dawn.

I pray the hours. I join Jesus on His Nightwatch. I keep Him company. We talk. He asks how things are going. The Nightwatch is always somehow like a confessional. Somehow, in the darkness and quiet the things that lie heavy on my heart gain clarity and rise to the surface of my consciousness more easily. There are no interruptions in the Nightwatch. Our conversation can be focused on those troubling thoughts, and then the conversation can wander into dreams and desires and hopeful visions.

Some mornings, Jesus sends me back to join Wendy in bed, assuring me He’s got the Watch and telling me to get a few more winks. Other mornings, we greet the new day together with The Office of the Dawn which always quotes from the lyrics of Psalm 130:

My soul waits for the LORD,
more than watchmen for the morning,
more than watchmen for the morning.

The lyrics of today’s chapter, Psalm 63, begin with the proclamation that David is always seeking earnestly for God. It’s a longing of soul. It’s a longing and a thirsting to feel God’s presence, to experience God’s peace and power. In the quiet this morning, I find myself reminded of the spiritual simplicity of Jesus’ teaching: Seek and you’ll find.

Of course, that means I have the will and option to seek and to find whatever I desire. Jesus once spoke to the religious people in His audience asking,

“When you went out to hear John the Baptist, what were you seeking? John came fasting and they called him crazy. I came feasting and they called me a lush, a friend of the riffraff. Opinion polls don’t count for much, do they? The proof of the pudding is in the eating.”

In the quiet this morning I stand with Jesus on the ramparts of my life. We sip coffee together as we look out on the horizon at a pink Iowa sky illuminating the patchwork of harvested fields at sunrise. We’re quiet, thinking about the day ahead.

“Tom?” Jesus asks, his gaze still fixed on the horizon.

I glance his way as he lifts the cup of coffee to His mouth. He drinks slowly. A smile comes to his lips.

“When you came up to join me this morning. What were you seeking?”

Some days He asks me a question, and I know He’s not expecting a quick answer. This is one He means for me to ponder.

If I don’t like what I’m finding in my life, then what is it I am seeking?

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The Mystery of the Missing Word

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The Mystery of the Missing Word (CaD Ps 62) – Wayfarer

Selah
For God alone my soul waits in silence,
for my hope is in him.
Psalm 62:5 (NRSVCE)

For most of my life journey, I have spent the beginning of my day in quiet. It helps that I have been a morning person my entire life and am typically the first one awake in the house. It has allowed me to create a spiritual rhythm. Each morning it’s just me in my home office. The neighborhood is silent. The household is silent. I am silent.

You may not know it, but silence is endangered in our world. There are a niche of audio artists and recording specialists who endeavor to capture the simple, pure sounds of nature sans the noises of technology and human civilizations encroachment on it. They complain that their jobs and their passion are made increasingly difficult.

Noise is everywhere.

In my podcast series The Beginner’s Guide to the Great Story I used three words to guide one’s journey through various sections and genres of ancient text that make up the compilation we call the Bible. The three words are:

Metaphor
Context
Mystery

This morning’s chapter led me into mystery. Bear with me as I lead you through it. I typically read each day’s chapter in The St. John’s Bible, the only handwritten and illuminated copy of the entire Bible produced in the last 500 years or so. I love it. It’s beautiful. It is a transcription of the New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE…By the way, I explain why there are all these different versions in The Beginner’s Guide to the Great Story Part 2). I will usually then switch and read the chapter a second time in the translation I’ve been most accustomed to for the last thirty years which is the New International Version (NIV). Something was missing:

Selah

In the illuminated manuscript of the St. John’s Bible the word “Selah” was written in red ink along the right margin between verses four and five. In the NIV the word was missing altogether. It was left out.

The game’s afoot, Watson!

Selah is, in and of itself, a mysterious word. The Hebrew language is thousands of years old and it was largely lost to the world for a long time. The result is that there are some Hebrew words that the most knowledgable scholars of the Hebrew language can only shrug their shoulders. The meaning is mysteriously lost to antiquity.

The editors of the NRSV translation chose to leave the mystery in the text.

The editors of the NIV chose to eliminate the word for their readers rather than try to explain it or allow me to consider it.

What a shame. Because mystery is part of the on-going journey of the Great Story, and words are literally metaphors. These squiggly lines made by pixels on my screen are just that. They are lines, symbols that my brain instantly turns into phonetic sounds which make words which are layered with meaning. And, as I continually remind myself, mystery is that which I can endlessly understand (Thank you Fr. Rohr).

It is popularly speculated that the word Selah was some kind of musical rest or pause because it always appears in the middle of musical lyrics such as the Psalms or the poetic work of the prophet Habakkuk. While this is pure speculation and educated guess, what modern wayfarers journeying through the Great Story have done is to find a layer of meaning in the letters and sounds of the word Selah.

I read:

For God alone my soul waits in silence,
for my hope is in him.

But when I consider that the word Selah might very well mean to actually stop, pause, rest, wait a second, or as The Passion Translation chooses to say: “Pause in God’s Presence” then the verse takes on added meaning:

Selah (Pause in God’s Presence)
For God alone my soul waits in silence,
for my hope is in him.

In a world of endangered silence, with ceaseless noise of humanity encroaching on me 24/7/365, I find this morning that I need the mystery of Selah, even if the metaphor is purely a layer of meaning I have chosen to attach to it in the endless understanding of possibility.

My spirit needs the pause.

Waiting. Silent. I hear the still, small voice of Holy Spirit.

Love. Peace. Joy. Hope.

Selah.

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Called to the Quiet

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Called to the Quiet (CaD Ex 24) – Wayfarer

Moses entered the cloud, and went up on the mountain. Moses was on the mountain for forty days and forty nights.
Exodus 24:18 (NRSVCE)

A few weeks ago I made an impromptu road trip. It was a particularly stressful time, and I told a few friends that the road trip was my way of doing what Jesus did on occasion when He went up a mountain alone to pray. I chose to sequester myself in the car.

As I read today’s chapter I found a number of elements that foreshadowed Jesus’ story. Jesus, like Moses, spent a period of forty days and nights in the wilderness. In today’s chapter, Moses is the mediator between God and the people. Moses offers the blood sacrifice, the blood covers the people, and Moses then ascends to God. Jesus was the blood sacrifice which atones for sin before He rose and ascended. When Jesus went up on a mountain with Peter, James, and John and was transfigured in glory, Moses appeared there at Jesus’ side. The events of today’s chapter are an example of how the ancient Hebrew stories are linked to Jesus. It’s all part of the Great Story.

What my mind and heart came back to in the text, however, was the time that Moses spent with God on the mountain. Forty is also a theme beyond the link to Jesus time in the wilderness:

  • The rain in Noah’s flood lasted forty days and nights.
  • Joshua and Caleb spent forty days spying out the Promised Land.
  • Goliath taunted Israel’s army for 40 days before David stepped up with his sling.
  • God told Ezekiel to lay on his side for 40 days as part of a prophetic word picture.
  • Jonah prophesied to Nineveh that they had 40 days to repent.
  • The seasons of Advent (celebrating the birth of Christ) and Lent (celebrating the death and resurrection of Christ) are both 40 days.

I am reminded in the quiet this morning that this world is moving faster, and faster, and faster as the memory and processing speed of our technology and devices continues to advance more rapidly. According to Google, their quantum computer (known as “Sycamore”) recently completed a computation in 200 seconds which would take the next fastest supercomputer 10,000 years to complete. The speed of life and technology continues to increase and with it my expectations for results.

The irony is that God’s Kingdom runs opposite the world. Things of the Spirit require time, contemplation, meditation, experience, struggle, worship, and prayer. The 15-16 hours I spent alone in the car, along with a night alone in a hotel, were spent doing exactly those things. It was exactly what my soul needed to find some clarity, to get centered, and to experience a measure of peace amidst my acutely stressful circumstances.

Over the nearly 40 years (there’s another “40” for you, lol) I have been a follower of Jesus, I’ve experienced that my time of quiet with God each morning has an effect on the peace with which I handle the stress of each day. If I go a stretch without getting in my time of quiet with God, even Wendy notices an increase in my stress level and pessimistic attitude toward life and relationships.

And so, I try to carve out a little alone time with God each morning, and occasionally along the journey, I’ve needed more than that. I can feel the call to climb the mountain, take a road trip, or spend a week unplugged at the lake. I have a feeling that the faster this world gets, the more necessary the times of quiet will be spiritually required.

Hope you find a few minutes of quiet today, as well, my friend.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

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The Wisdom of Silence

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But the people remained silent and said nothing in reply….
2 Kings 18:36 (NIV)

Wendy’s and my morning routine begins each day meeting in our dining room for breakfast. Our dining room looks east over our back yard and the field of prairie grass behind it. If the sun isn’t too bright we get to watch the sun rise up over the tree line as we drink our respective tea and coffee and catch up on the news of the morning.

Of late Wendy and I have been reading a lot about the outbursts that are happening all over the States from college campuses to the streets and parks of various cities. As most of us know, it spills over into social media where it seems one cannot share a reasoned, personal opinion without getting pummeled, insulted and threatened by strangers or people you barely know. Just a few weeks ago my friend Dr. Bob shared with me a brief glance at the vitriolic string of threatening comments and emails he’d received after his editorial appeared in the New York Times. We are living in reactive times.

During our quiet morning conversations Wendy and I have mulled over a couple of thoughts about this entire trend. First, at least in some cases the screams and conflict are meant to create a reaction and the press coverage that goes along with it. National attention is exactly what some groups desire to recruit like minded individuals and financial support. Second, we live in an unprecedented age of 24/7 news coverage from endless outlets competing for ratings and advertising dollars. These news outlets have a need for news they can report and keep audience attention. I wonder, at times, how complicit the media is in creating or sustaining the conflicts with their coverage to the point that it gets blown out of proportion compared to the reality of the situation. Finally, it has come to light that another country had agents trolling American social media during our election year stirring up reactive anger between those of opposing political views. They believed that the conflict would be destabilizing. Mission accomplished. Welcome to a new era of cyber warfare: stimulating your enemies to destroy themselves from within.

This came to mind this morning as I read today’s chapter about a very ancient conflict. The Assyrian empire was blitzing its way through the region. They destroyed Israel and were now at the gates of the walled city of Jerusalem. The strategy for thousands of years of siege warfare was for the raiding army to send its best communicator to have a parley with the besieged city’s leaders. The city officials would stand on the wall and the besieging army’s mouthpiece would stand below and yell up at them. The goal was to threaten, cajole, and intimidate those in the city into giving up.

The Assyrian commander comes to wall of Jerusalem and does his best to smack talk the people of Judah into fear. He tells them not to listen to their king, not to trust their God, and to look at how things ended up for their other enemies. For added effect he throws in that a long siege would result in them being so starved for food and drink that they’d eat and drink their own excrement.

But then the scribes record that the people said nothing. They didn’t react in anger. They didn’t talk smack back. They didn’t take the bait. They remained silent.

This morning I’m reminded that the teacher of Ecclesiastes wisely reminds us “there is a time to speak, and a time to be silent.” I’m reminded that when brought before the kangaroo court of His accusers bent on state-sanctioned homicide, Jesus remained silent. There is a time for discussion and reasoned debate. There are times to raise our voices in protest. But there are also times like the people of Judah before the Assyrian parley when we need the wisdom to be silent and ignore the taunts of others.

God, grant me the wisdom to know when to speak, when to be silent, and the discernment to know the difference.

[Now, if you’ll excuse me I have a breakfast date with Wendy down in the dining room.] Have a great week everyone.]

Chapter-a-Day

Hush Up

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Then Moses and the levitical priests spoke to all Israel, saying: Keep silence and hear, O Israel!
Deuteronomy 27:9 (NRSV)

We grow up being continuously hushed.

  • Be quiet. Your mom is sleeping.
  • Be quiet. Dad and I are trying to watch this.
  • I don’t want to hear another word out of you. Go to sleep.
  • Be quiet, class. Eyes up here.
  • Listen up, team!
  • Shhhhh!

The truth is that it’s difficult to hear amidst all the noise. Even Jesus said, “those who have ears to hear, listen to me.” But in order to listen we have to silence, or tune out, all the other noise around us.

I’m not sure that there has been another time in human history that is as noisy as the time we’re living in. We are deluged by noise. Noise from ever present phones that beep, buzz, and blare. Noise from televisions that are constantly on in the background. Noise from endlessly streaming playlists. Noise from planes, trains, and automobiles. The noise, at times, seems never ending.

So, how am I supposed to hear myself think?

How am I supposed to hear what my loved ones are really saying?

How am I supposed to hear God’s still, small voice in my spirit?

Today, as I switch off the satellite music channel playing in my office, I’m thinking about my need for quiet. I’m contemplating the reality of noise becoming an ever present distraction in my life. I wonder how much I miss because even when I try to listen I cannot hear myself, or God through the din.

Today, I’m consciously choosing to hush up, and listen.

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featured image: Nuno Martins via Flickr

Wayfarer's Journal

A Gorgeous and Enjoyable Two Weeks

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Wendy and I enjoyed our two weeks at the lake, though I admit that I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed as I enter back into the fray. We will have been home less than two days before we take off for a three day business trip to the Twin Cities. So much to do. So little time.

Nevertheless, we can look back at two gorgeous weeks punctuated by wonderful visits from dear friends. In all the years I’ve been going down to the Lake of the Ozarks, I can’t remember a more beautiful two week stretch in August. Usually the temps are above 100 degrees fahrenheit, the lake feels like tepid bath water, and you feel like stepping out of the house is similar to stepping out in an oven. The past two weeks the temps rarely got above the mid-eighties. Cool overnight temps created a sea of mist over the lake, and Wendy even wore a sweatshirt one night on the deck.

During the week Wendy and I did worked to keep projects moving along. The nice thing about working from the lake is that we can take a few hours off in the afternoon, get out on the water, and enjoy the sun. We enjoyed the quiet and togetherness on our week days alone.

The first weekend we enjoyed a visit by our friends, Kevin and Linda. On the second weekend it was our friend Matthew and his daughter, Olivia. As a hobbit might say, “It rained food and drink” until we were “filling up the corners.” There was sweet laughter and great conversation, warm sunshine and cool water.

It’s hard to believe that the summer is almost over. In just ten days we’ll be heading back down for Labor Day weekend and the official end of the high season. Where does the time go?