The television is on. Noise is on. The background noise increases. It has its own ebb and flow. It drowns. It colors. It stains. But when the off-switch hits, the deafening silence aches in the echo. No amount of sound soothes silence, and maybe that’s okay. What’s not okay is when we try to stifle the beating in our own hearts. What’s not okay is when we turn up the volume of life around us just so we don’t have to face the truth.
Truth isn’t always pretty. You can only ignore it for so long before your world comes crashing to a halt. Deal with it or be undone by it. Turn off the noise, and don’t be afraid of the reality your soul desires to whisper.
Too often in life, we are overwhelmed by change truth can bring. Perhaps the changes come fast and furious. Maybe we sweep them to the side thinking we can deal with them later. Perhaps we feel we do not have the capacity to stand under the weight of new truth.
You’re not alone. We’re with you. I’m with you. I’m in that season too, and let’s just say it burns like fire. Quick-change seems to be raising the temperature of every circumstance. The immediate response is to jump back and watch it happen. Let’s face it, our lives are not DVR programs. There is no long pause button. There is no record button. There certainly is no fast forward option. There is play and stop.
I’ve been brooding over these things recently – not all at once. They have been coming to a fever pitch and not in a good way. Maybe you have them too. Warning signs, flashes of all-is-not-well. Instances of stop-look-and-address. Moments screaming all isn’t so well. We all deal with these at some point in our lives.
Sometimes it feels like the easier thing is to drown out the issue with noise, but that is only temporary. When the silence falls, change growls again. Do I play or do I stop? I can play at life all day every day. That doesn’t really move me forward. Stopping, yeah, that’s the one that requires the internal effort.
To stop requires choice and intention. To stop means looking the change in the eye and telling it you won’t let it take you down. Stopping means surveying your right-now life and choosing to move forward in healthier ways. To be honest, the stop means letting neglected moments wash over you with all the emotion you’ve tried to hold back. Is it pain? Is it wonder? Is it grace? Is it defeat? Only you know, but how can you know if you do not cease and desist from busy living or ducking and dodging?
I’m preaching to the choir. These are words I’m telling myself. I’m in that moment now. I have a choice to make, and I choose to stop and really hone in on what’s the deeper issue. To find the source of the pain or wonder of whatever-it-is is crucial. I cannot fight what I cannot name. That’s no way to live. I want to be ready and able to fight a good fight.
I have no resolution, no three steps and you’re done, or an easy way out. What I do have are heavy sighs, deep breaths, whispered thoughts, and tears. Each one becomes a prayer that speaks of the deep things I cannot articulate. So I will wait in the silence. I will wait on God who is Faithful. I will see what He will have to say in these quiet moments.
The truth I know tonight is the name of Christ is my Strong Tower and My Refuge. He knows what this silence is like. He knows the crushing weight and burn of the too-much-for-me moments.
I cannot see it, hear it, or feel it now, but I know this pain will turn to wonder. My heart will be again at peace. And I will find my knees not so feeble and silence a comforting friend.