Silence.

For God alone my soul waits in silence, from God comes my salvation – Psalm 62:1

I keep an old shoebox of handwritten letters that were sent to me in the first years of adulthood. Every now and again, I unbury the box, read through a few of them, and transport to a person twenty year ago with different dreams, concerns, and priorities. I loved to send letters to friends and family, and there was tremendous joy when I would receive their replies. There was a silent, caring beauty about the cycle, especially knowing that at one time, someone took the time to handwrite, stamp, and send a letter. Letter writing’s sunset has long since passed with the rise of the speed and efficiency of text messaging and email, and I feel that we lost something precious and necessary for our lives in this advance of technology, the ability to write silently and to wait patiently for a reply. 

Along the same road, I remember the days when I was more comfortable missing a phone call, caused by leaving the phone at home because the cord wasn’t long enough. I didn’t purchase my first cell phone until I was 22. How did we ever function without this leash attached to us that provides connection, information, and entertainment every second of every day at our fingertips? Card catalogs, board games, waiting six to eight weeks for delivery, and actual conversation were all things that subconsciously taught us to be patient with ourselves and others.

These instant conveniences seep into our souls and cause us to despair when we think God is too silent, for too long. We forget that God doesn’t work in our schedule. Consequently, we pollute these gifted moments of silence with social media, podcasts, and cable news. This makes it near impossible to hear that still, gentle voice of our maker and obstructs our view that God alone is the source of our salvation. We build a crumbling fortress on the noise we ingest and the silence we reject and are surprised to discover how easily shaken we are by every wave that comes our way.

However, the good news doesn’t evade us, there is freedom from our impatience and our noise. There is always hope. We can return and renew, rebel against the encroaching information overload. We can begin to retrain ourselves to listen and be patient. 

We can turn it off. 

            Not forever, but for a time, after all this isn’t intended to be a luddite’s rant. Technology is beneficial and essential when used in moderation and for health and safety. For now, the newspaper, the Facebook page, and the television can wait. The smart phone can be put down. We can spend some time in the uncomfortable silence. We can meditate, breathe deeply. We can write a letter to a dear friend, itself a form of meditation. You don’t have to send it, because that letter can be a place where we pour our hearts out before God, a prayer written to the one who is our refuge. We can once again tune our ears, our minds, and our hearts to the God whose steadfast love calls to us.             In this, we might share the psalmist’s encounter with the divine, “Once God has spoken, twice have I heard this; that power belongs to our God, and steadfast love belongs to you, O Lord.” In the gift of silence, we learn to trust again.