Sitting with Silence

Silence arrived at my door, came in unannounced and sat down. This uninvited arrival sits awkwardly with me, drags me out to sit in the damp and cold of these rainy days, with no words, no communication and I wrestle with how to sit here with Silence.

It is 4:20 AM and we sit here before the day begins. Silence was there when I awoke and I turn on the lights to see if she will go away but she remains here. Is it truly silent? Not really. I hear the ticking of the clock, the hum of my laptop, and beat of my own heart, the breathing of my cat Sebastian. Right now this is no friendly companion. Silence seems to watch every move I make, judge each move and see right through my thought process.

What is the character of Silence? What is it about this presence that I am wrestling with? Do I see through the eyes of past experience with Silence and strange truths? What is the Truth about Silence?

Silence means disapproval – from God, from people.
Silence means anger – from God, from people.
Where is the good in silence? How do I sit in silence when it feels like being in a tent that leaks and the pouring rain has left no dry clothes or dry blankets to wrap myself in. I shiver in the silence. It is not a warm welcome presence with arms and legs and voice to communicate. It is just there and I silently scream inside at it’s arrival.
Silence is what the night holds before daylight arrives.
Silence is what fills the concert hall as the Maestro lifts his baton - just before the concerto begins. Silence then bows out.
Silence is what it must be like in the womb before the precarious journey begins where the little one takes its first breath of oxygen and begins the life long process of breathing in, breathing out.
Silence is when you are held tightly in strong arms and feel safe but no words are spoken.
Silence is what comes after a winter blizzard and a deep blanket of snow covers everything, and the moon lights up this eerie night.
Silence is that moment when the forest is still and the smell of the pine carpet fills your nostrils.
Silence shows up with mourning, anger, disapproval and rejection in tow but doesn’t arrive to celebrate, to accept and to heal.
Silence is a place of absence and not presence.
Stillness is a place of peace and filling, but silence isn’t.
I want to fill the empty places Silence brought but I have no energy to do so.
Silence seems to have brought another guest along – fear.
Silence seems to want me to wear insignificance and invisibility. They are the garments of disapproval and anger.

In the silence of the night I turn on the lights thinking somehow this will remove the silence. It just makes fear more visible. I never invited them in – how did they get through? Is Silence waiting to embrace me and show me her gentleness? Have I always felt she belonged in the dark and she wants to show me that she is really a guest of The Light? Has the liar shown me his view of Silence and God has sent Silence to sit with me, to be gentle with my heart and soul and to hold me with strong arms so I feel safe?

I don’t know yet. I don’t see Silence as this author wrote:
“Silence is praise to you Zion dwelling God, and also obedience. You heard the prayer in it all.” Psalm 65:1,2 The Message