My toddler is noise. My boys are full of stories and questions. My husband needs my help. The headache that has plagued me for over a week has demanded space in my body and has left my shoulders in knots. But here in the open space, the quiet reigns. Its command is soft, but insistent. Its invitation so welcome.
I am reminded of these words sung by Amy Grant:
I need a silent night, a holy night
To hear an angel voice, through the chaos and the noise.
I need a midnight clear, a little peace right here
To end this crazy day with a silent night.
Silence is a gift. Within the silence is space: space to breathe, to think, to know, to be, to be loved . . . but mostly to hear. I need the quiet for rest. I need the quiet for clarity. But most of all, I need the quiet to hear the Voice. So He quiets me.
"The LORD your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love . . . "
Giggles and squeals break the forest silence as my three sugars catch up with me on the trail. The silence is broken by joy, and theirs is not the only I hear.
" . . . He will rejoice over you with singing" (Zephaniah 3:17).
In the quiet broken, my spirit sings back. And I count my blessings.
Rejoicing in these blessings #360 - 378:
followed by joy
sunlight through trees
cool, fresh air
Baby Girl loves her daddy
picnics in October
a walk along the river
a break from the headache
a good first public school report card
a yummy fish fry
God still speaks
He rejoices over us! Over me! Over you!
He created the silence
and He broke it