Shhhhhh!

One of the most universal experiences for a mum is escaping the non-stop noise of little people with their yelling, questions, demands, crying, nagging, whinging, protesting. It's not always like this, but let's be honest - we have all experienced those days when you just wish you could push the mute button. Some of the best hiding places are the laundry, walk in pantry, toilet (only if you have a lock), or if you are really desperate, under your kids bed. Shameful as it might be, I have definitely been caught playing 'hide and seek' all by myself, just for a little quiet.

Some people are surprised when they learn the fact that I need quiet time occasionally (you see, I am a raging extrovert and thrive off crowds and conversations!), but it seems that extroverts create smaller extroverts* who also love to talk and sing and interrupt and yell and creatively declare that they are a REAL fairy who can fly and paint the sky with sparkles. (*sorry, Mark)

Well, whether we call ourselves extroverts, introverts, or ambiverts, all of us need quiet - times when we pause, sit, and stare... which then often leads to reflection and consideration of larger things. In fact, this was a truth that Jesus lived. He modelled quiet throughout his ministry, taking time away from the noisey, smelly, needy crowds of people that followed (hmm, sounds familiar!). After miracle-making moments, Jesus retreated to the mountains for solitude and prayer. On the night before the crucifixion, Jesus spent time in desperate prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane. Quiet was a part of his consistent routine - so how much more must we need it in our own lives?

But if you think getting quiet is easy, think again. You'll have to fight culture for it. The noise and distractions are endless in this digital age and many of us feel like we are missing something if we don't have our phone within our reach, just 'in case'. Even if we go to the effort of creating space by clearing out the distractions and prioritising the time, we still have to get comfortable with ourselves - with being alone with our thoughts, failures, hopes, dreams, wounds, and longings. For some of us, quiet can be the scariest place to go. And when I mean some of us, I mean me. I used to fill my days to the full with activities, people, commitments, busywork, tasks, outings etc. just to avoid the potential to having a moment of quiet head-space. Why? Because I didn't want to be alone with all of the things listed above. But I very slowly learnt that when we go there, when we establish routines of quiet and protect them, incredible things happen for our emotional and mental health.

First, in the quiet we gain perspective. When the noise of our lives overwhelm us, we often misconstrue or lose lack of reality, often magnifying issues or dilemmas. By creating space away from our busy realities, we can see more clearly what is happening and gain new energy to approach the challenges that have nested to close to home.

Second, the quiet helps us become more emotionally resilient and empathetic to others... and ourselves. We hear the whispering longings hidden in our secret place; we see the subtle changes that might need to be implemented in our calendar or relationships; we feel that our body is sore somewhere we hadn't yet noticed; we hear the buzzing hum in our mind which tells us it needs some long breaths and stillness.

It is really hard to start practices that SCARE THE HECK OUT OF YOU, but as I incorporated the practice of quiet into my daily life, I noticed shifts in the way that I related to others. Quietness infused the way I related to others (and myself), enabling me to be a bearer of peace, love, and wisdom in the midst of the chaos. In fact, the more I persisted with the practice of quiet, the more I was able to hear. It was like the volume of chaos was turned down and the volume of life was turned up. How? Through the art of listening. By shutting my mouth and pausing my body, the subtleties that I had been missing started being seen. Not only this, but gentle promptings from my Father God finally had space to be heard. And for this and this alone, the practice of quietness was worth every painful minute.

"Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper." 1 Kings19:11-13

Find a way to create some space this week for this gentle whisper. It is worth it, I promise.