As I listened past the natural sound of the wind rushing by, I realized that I could not hear anything. Everything around me was silent, eerily so. Part of me rationalized that experience by cataloging the explanation. It was early in the day. This was the moment when the community had paused, night was passing and everyone had retired, morning was coming and the earlier ones were just getting started. The silence that dominated the moment would be broken, soon. Another part of me lingered in the silence remembering other like moments. They seem few and far between. A wonderful moment in the afternoon at Mont La Salle, a time of reflection at a cemetery tombstone for a friend from my childhood, and the space just after I awoke from a dark night of wrestling for my soul.
Silence can be extreme. In moments of beauty and wonder, it is as if one is caught up in an embrace of love. Yet the other end is also familiar. Deep darkness clouds one’s mind and heart. Even as one struggles to reach out for the familiar sounds of the world around us, it is as if one is lost in a void. Nothing. “There’s not a sign or symbol of God in sight, nor anyone to speak in his name, no one who knows what’s going on.” (Psalm 74.9)
Even as I find myself struggling in today’s void, Life whispers reminders that are worth embracing.
In the silence it seems as if there are no sounds of hope, not even a sign. Have you forgotten so quickly? Do you realize that you are the sign and that hope lives within your heart and soul?
Will you let Silence cover your ears, preventing you from hearing? Be open, like a dessert flower that blossoms in the barren dryness, there are things that are waiting to be heard. God will speak. Your heart will remind you. There are silent treasures waiting to be discovered.
As I sit, I remember God’s in action through Divinity’s children. God is always present.
