Be still and allow the quiet to speak

“In the midst of your daily storms, make it a point to be still and set your sights on God. Let God be God. Let him bathe you in his glory so your breath and your troubles are sucked from your soul. Be still. Be quiet. Be open and willing. Then you will know that God is God.” - Max Lucado from The Great House of God

I recall many years ago listening to a speaker share with an audience that she makes it a habit to keep the car radio in the off position, and when driving alone, she always keeps the passenger seat free of bag debris. With no built-in entertainment distraction, the speaker said the quiet allows her to meditate and the open seat reminds her of God’s presence.

That very day, I turned off my car radio, and it was only a short while that I sorely missed National Public Radio. In the hustle bustle of those days, with children and job, I quickly discovered that car time was my only truly alone time. I practiced and eventually taught myself to use that time as quality meditation.

Now, years later, I regret saying my hand bag and shopping bundles do clutter the front seat, and where I never regained my car music habit, the cell phone is a constant companion. I offer apologies to those with whom I share the road.

Today, I sit alone on my porch and read these words by Max Lucado. As I read, I listen with intention to the sounds around me. We have an abundance of crows near the house and I enjoy their “caw caw” coming from different directions and the ensuing answers. A lawn mower away from my sight, but within earshot disrupts the calls of the birds, but creates a dull and quiet whir in the distance.

A water fountain just off the front porch calls my attention to the sounds of falling water, and pulls my consciousness temporarily away from the lawn mower drone. Hearing the water reminds me of continual replenishment. The level of the water does not rise or fall, but flows through a filter and pump that keeps the level even and the flow steady.
As I devote my intention to listening, I notice squirrel chatter voicing displeasure in Bing sleeping in the shade of a tree. The wind creates movement that drowns out the water as I try to keep the sounds of machinery from disrupting nature’s stillness.

The lawn mower finally pauses and cacophony turns to symphony complete with bird song, water, and wind.

Somehow, in our society, we are not programmed to steal even a few moments away for the sheer luxury of listening. I did with great intention today and I can attest to Lucado’s assertion that to bathe in the sound of stillness, to allow God to be God does indeed suck the troubles from one’s soul and leave it open for peace.

Oh, but as I opened my eyes from my quiet vacation, I discovered Clover’s white beard black and my impatiens unearthed from a pot. I will dedicate moments to quiet tomorrow, but I believe I will keep my eyes open.