Stillness

Lake Tahoe - Calm Water

Quiet can sometimes indicate trouble. (Perhaps this is most true for parents of young children?)

When someone you love is quiet, it can cause you some concern. “Are you feeling okay? You seem so quiet…”

Other times quiet is necessary. We must stop to process. To think. Ruminate. Cogitate. Meditate.

To pray. Commune.

We read this morning from the book of Mark that when Jesus was most sought after by the throngs, he was off by himself. Remote. Distant.

Quiet.

There is silence here for the moment, for a variety of reasons. It’s somewhat peculiar that last calendar year was one of prodigious production for me, literarily, and then since late in twenty-thirteen, there has been naught but silence on these digital pages.

Are you feeling okay?

I am a child of God, loved more deeply than I can ever fathom. I am more than okay.

For now, I have no plans to resume publication of my thoughts, ruminations, and rumblings (or is that… grumblings?) but the archives beckon, no?

Peruse previous entries by year (2013, 2012… even 2003?) or by category: family, life with God, personal, government, or even tags like science and “Things That Are Weird“.

If you are in a season of silence, I pray it is productive. Don’t rush it. Enjoy and allow it to season you properly.

And remain—abide—in the stillness until life quickens once more.

Quiet

Lake Tahoe - Calm Water

It’s amazing what a little ‘R & R’ can do for a body.

And I don’t just mean one’s physical body.

For a good while now I’ve been feeling as though I am running on empty—nearly all the time, every day. That’s obviously not a great way to exist (nor, even more obviously, to thrive) and thus I have endeavored to adjust my daily schedule, plan for downtime, and just attempt to find any solution to the constant feeling of at-wits-end.

On Sunday morning, Jen had a plan. She offered to let me have a relaxing day—alone—to read, write, do whatever I wanted to do, free of any responsibilities that I might normally have. I hesitated only briefly, and then gratefully accepted her offer. She did, after all, offer… and, although she doesn’t prefer taking trips out (especially all day) with all six kids, she was in possession this day of a definitive plan. That always helps.

And so, I helped prepare the troops for departure, and then waved goodbye in the late morning hours, looking forward to whatever my quiet day might bring.

I’d like to say that I plopped right down in my favorite reading chair and spent the next many hours devouring one or more of my currently in-progress books, stopping only to empty my bladder or refill my cup of tea—but that’s not exactly what happened.

I started a load of laundry, then I went through my inbox, knowing there were a few messages to tend to. I did few maintenance tasks for my blog’s Facebook and (new) Twitter accounts, and I finally did sit down with a book.

But then I was a bit hungry after not much reading, so… I went and switched the laundry, starting a new load, prepared a small lunch, and after finishing that, headed back to my reading chair.

After that, when I tried to refill my mug, I noticed that my water was all gone—so, back downstairs to refill the large bottle on my water dispenser (which meant I also had a chance to stick in another load of laundry)… and this time I was actually quickly back into the world of my selected current read.

And then I noticed it.

You know when your phone’s battery is completely drained, and it even shuts down to preserve itself until you can connect it to a power source, and then it actually take a while before it can even come back online to show you that you have almost no battery power?

I think I was kind of like that.

So even though I wasn’t doing a very good job of only resting, I was alone, and quiet.

And it was working.

The funniest thing that I noticed was, after finishing up another chapter, my mind wandered—happily this time—to thoughts of tending to our garden, or mowing our yard while listening to an episode of a podcast I enjoy.

I even sat down at the piano and began playing a new song, apparently flowing from the energy that had been renewed in me.

I was back online, and my battery indicator had finally entered the green stage.

And I remembered the several times that the gospel writers mentioned Jesus’ habit of slipping away to be alone, to recharge:

But Jesus would often go to some place where he could be alone and pray. Luke 5:16 CEV

Then Jesus went into a house to get away from the crowd… Mark 7:17

With the crowd dispersed, he climbed the mountain so he could be by himself and pray. He stayed there alone, late into the night. Matthew 14:23 MSG

If Jesus knew the value of being alone—and especially with the purpose of reconnecting with Father—how silly of us to not make this a priority in our lives, too.

Sometimes it’s so hard, though. Being the parent of many children is certainly one of those times. They need you, as does your spouse. And it’s a joy to serve them.

But you aren’t you when you’re worn out, tired, not rested—when you’ve not taken intentional time to rest and be quiet.

Be still and know that I am God. Psalm 46:10

I have been rising early to go for a two-mile walk four or five days per week. That’s a half hour or so, usually, of quiet, alone time. And I am mostly “alone” when I am working, but there are other demands on me there, obviously.

One might say my easily recognized rejuvenation in just a few hours of quiet today reveals that in order to be more “me”… quiet and alone need to be on my schedule at some point.

And with God’s help—and Jen’s—so shall it be. 🙂