I didn’t choose silence and stillness.  It chose me.   I tell people I was pushed, pulled, prodded into this place that on my own I wouldn’t have chosen to go.

It happened one Christmas, several years ago.  Everyone goes through seasons of life that are more challenging than others.  This was one of those seasons.  I felt depleted and off-kilter.  I had lost my mojo.

The usual morning routine to that point had been to read scripture, write in my journal, and spend some time in prayer.  I did this usually before the kids got up, or if I had time before the other responsibilities for the day kicked in, after they left for school.

This semi-regular routine nurtured my faith by giving me meaning, perspective and hope for each day.  It was an important part of my life for many years. 

Empty

But now I could not find the motivation.  In fact, everything in me resisted the idea of just powering down and making myself keep up this pattern.  I know that going through the motions for anything in life is soul-numbing and a waste of precious time and energy.

So one morning I gave myself permission to give up the usual morning routine for that day. Instead, I made coffee, went to the couch, and sat quietly in the stillness of the early morning hours.

The only light was from the nearby Christmas tree.

Really, I think I unconsciously surrendered to what my soul was crying out for anyways.  

And I sat in the stillness and silence again the next day.  And the next.

Waking Up

In the quiet and stillness, I began to reconnect with my own soul. Slowly, day by day, the emptiness began to be filled with God’s presence.  

In the stillness and quiet, I became aware in a whole new way.

My soul began to know it’s worth, to reference a familiar Christmas song, apart from all of the doing. In being, I discovered that I was solidly anchored in an ocean of Love.

Even though I had made a regular practice of taking personal retreats, what I hadn’t discovered to that point was the gift that stillness and silence is as a daily, or near daily, practice.

Here are some things that I have learned about stillness and silence:

• This practice is essential for those times when life seems too busy, overwhelming or demanding.  Stillness and silence is the cure for to-do lists that seem to never end, for in the stillness and silence we realize we are more than what we do.
• Stillness and silence is the counter-intuitive remedy for loneliness, for there we find that we are never alone.
• Doing nothing is one of the most productive activities we can undertake.  And this says a lot coming from someone who likes to get a lot of stuff done.  This is because the white space, or margins, or however you want to think of it, help to begin the day anchored and centered in what is true, which is a better place from which all else then will follow.
• In stillness and silence, we become aware of all of the ways that God is already giving to us and wanting to fill us with good gifts like hope, joy, faith, gratitude, and love.  Only empty things can be filled.
• Stillness and silence are necessary to keep perspective on who we are and who God is.
• Sometimes a moment of stillness beckons in an unexpected way.  Just this morning I was walking in the sunlight of a cold December morning and noticed some very red berries on a bare tree. I was compelled to stop walking for a moment.  I found myself unexpectedly experiencing a moment of stillness as I stood there, looking up at the red berries against the blue sky.  In that space,  I sensed a beckoning “Be still and know that I am God (Psalm 46:10)”  

In stillness, muddy waters become clear.  Dallas Willard

What Is Stillness and Silence?

Stillness and Silence literally mean doing nothing.  This is not a time for prayer (at least not in the usual sense), or planning or problem-solving.  It means learning to silence the myriad of voices in your head, sit still and simply be.

Whenever I talk with people about how meaningful this practice has been in my life, people generally agree it sounds life-giving,  “But how?”  

How To Get Started

1. Block out 10-15 minutes for this practice every day, or as often as possible.  It takes time to grow into this so the more regular, the better.
2. Find a comfortable and quiet place to sit still, where you will be less likely to be interrupted.
3. Relax your body, become aware of all of the thoughts running through your head.
4. It helps me to imagine gathering up all of those thoughts and laying them off to the side to deal with later, after I’ve become anchored.  This is probably still the hardest part for me as my mind is always racing.  But all the more necessary.
5. Once your mind is [mostly] past the racing thoughts, you now have space in your heart and mind to allow a deeper sense of God’s presence.  For me, this comes as a sense of peace, deep gratitude, goodness, hopefulness, contentment, etc, 
6. Stay relaxed and open until either your time is up, or you sense peace and rest within.

Eventually, I reintroduced prayer and scripture and journaling.  But that practice now comes following a time of silence and stillness, which I believe has helped me to engage those practices from a place of being rather than doing.

Don’t wait to be pushed, pulled and prodded into this gift. Give stillness and silence a try.  And whether you’ve practiced this for a long time or you’re new to it,  I’d love to hear what you learn and experience.  Leave a comment!

Here’s what I want you to do: Find a quiet, secluded place so you won’t be tempted to role-play before God. Just be there as simply and honestly as you can manage. The focus will shift from you to God, and you will begin to sense his grace. 

 

What I’m trying to do here is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God’s giving.   

Jesus, Matthew 6

 

Photo by Quentin Rey on Unsplash