|pic credit: pbase.com|
Today, while Babe slept, I actually read. I read. I really read a magazine. It was bliss. The house was quiet, I mean silent. Eerie silent. I kept walking through the house wondering what those little noises I heard were, as the house continued to creek due to the wind.
Finally, I gave up the search for strange noises, and went back to reading my magazine....and then to no one's surprise, I actually fell asleep on the couch, still with said magazine laying in my lap. When I awoke, I had to chuckle at myself. The only time to spend quiet time with a book or magazine, and my body decided for me, that silence meant naptime.
Without email to check, internet to surf, DVR to catch up on, laundry to finish or even an oven that will light, my normal pastimes were severely limited. As much as I want to complain about those difficult hours today, I can look back, now with power, of course, with a sense of understanding.
The quiet sometimes is necessary. Quiet is needed for so much that often gets neglected.....like a sense of peace, like a moment to reflect, time to pray or time to simply listen to that blowing wind and know nature is powerful.
There is so much noise in today's world, coming from all directions, even from things that are helpful for us. Think of the refrigerator nosily making ice. Think of that pencil sharpener that churns loudly from the kitchen. Think of that dishwasher dutiful cleaning my plates and glasses, the washing machine, the dryer buzzing, and all those little gadgets that make our day so much more efficient. I think of the music I listen to when I exercise, those little ear pieces that keep me from thinking of anything but the beat to keep my feet moving. Noises come from good directions and bad. Sometimes, silence, pure and uninterrupted silence is necessary.
The key, I think, to keeping balance, is to move the will to make that silence an important priority in our lives, especially as busy mothers.
Silence can be like a breath of fresh air, that once we inhale and exhale deeply, we can set our mind straight, think things through, have a conversation with God, and better understand our role as heart of our homes.
As much as I detested wrangling with a power-less garage door at school pick up time, I've come to appreciate these types of sufferings in a new way. Perhaps God is really trying to tell me something by that blowing wind, that broken branch that severed our power lines.
Perhaps He's trying to tell us all, that to hear Him, we must not only quiet ourselves, but also the constant distractions that are everywhere. Perhaps He's telling me, to conquer my will, as to cut out that which separates me from hearing His voice, especially in a driving wind.