The Silence

People have said that it is golden. That it’s a sanctuary. I say silence is the loudest and scariest thing there is.

Or so I thought a week ago.

Then God had me go into about a week of media-free living. That meant no Facebook/social media, no TV, no Netflix, and limited texting. That meant going home each night to my cat…and to the silence. No white noise to drown out my thoughts. No looking for red notifications on the upper left of my screen. No scrolling mindlessly through Instagram. No instant feedback. No avoidance of reality.

Just me, my cat, the Lord, and the silence.

Except that He spoke more loudly and clearly through that week of silence than I think I’ve heard Him in a very long time. I couldn’t run away because there was nowhere else to go but straight to Him.

And He dug. Deep. My days were spent walking down a new path with the dirt of my old heart being thrown up into my face and out into the great unknown. I was a bit of a pothole inside.

And I don’t think I’ve ever felt more alive in my entire life. Sure, it hurt. It hurt to see that some areas in me where I thought I was strong, confident, and humble were actually places of deep weakness, insecurity, and even pride. But I know, and you probably know, too, that He never wounds without intending to make us whole.

“Come, let us return to the Lord. For He has torn us, but He will heal us; He has wounded us, but He will bandage us. “He will revive us after two days; He will raise us up on the third day, … That we may live before Him. “So let us know, let us press on to know the Lord. His going forth is as certain as the dawn; And He will come to us like the rain, Like the spring rain watering the earth.” –Hosea 6:1-3

And, boy, did He wound. Then He showed me something else.

A farmer has to dig a hole and discard the old soil…so he can plant new seeds! God had a packet of seeds in His hands the whole time He was digging. And while He wouldn’t let me see the picture on the front of the seed packet, He was getting ready to plant! Oh, and that old soil? It’s gone. God only uses the best materials.

Once the seeds are planted, God covers up the hole with new soil, rich in all the things that will make the seeds grow – our relationships with others that sharpen us, worship, His voice…Then we have to guard those seeds and make sure they aren’t trampled by what the Enemy will inevitably send our way. We have to water them in the Word. We have to stay in the Light (“If we walk in the Light as He is in the Light…”). We have to be patient.

But, oh, the beauty of the green sprig that soon will sprout!

If I’d never silenced my life, I never would have been open to His digging. It wasn’t easy, but it was so worth it.

I encourage you to take some time for silence this week. See what God shows you. And let’s work together to see the gardens of our hearts grow in His love.

“Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound
of silence.”

“I have set the Lord continually before me; because He is at my right hand, I shall not be greatly moved.” –Psalm 16:8

Seeds

He cast his lot of seeds here and there, hoping for a crop one day – hoping for life to spring forth from the cracked soil surrounding him. Once the seeds had been scattered, he watered them. And then the waiting began.

Summer came. The sun blazed with its heat; the neighbors retreated indoors for respite; but he watered his seeds even still. And even still, no crops broke through the soil. Not one.

Fall. Leaves turned colors and then fell to the ground. People gathered their harvest for sale and for feasting. But still, he watered. And even still, his work seemed to be in vain.

Winter knocked hard on the doors of his heart, and he looked desperately at the field, just knowing beyond a doubt that no seed could sprout now – not in the dead of winter, not in the frigid winds and lifeless soil. Yet still, he watered.

But then…hope. Upon one last glance at the field, he noticed something strange. A small sprig of green had wormed and fought its way up from the depths of the dirt. He ran to this burst of color among fields of white, cupping it in his hands. Surely a crop couldn’t come up from this – not now. But it had. And hope, just like that sprig of green, began to grow in the heart of this weary man.

 

“Behold, I will do something new,
Now it will spring forth;
Will you not be aware of it?
I will even make a roadway in the wilderness,
Rivers in the desert.”

Isaiah 43:19

Source: Namely Marley