"I hear a lot of people say that the fear of death and the fear of public speaking are two of the main fears in my generation, but I disagree. I think it's the fear of silence. (emphasis mine) We refuse to turn off our computers, turn off our phones, log off Facebook, and just sit in silence, because in those moments we might actually have to face up to who we really are. We fear silence like it's an invisible monster, gnawing at us, ripping us open, and showing us our dissatisfaction. Silence is terrifying."
Jefferson Bethke
Jesus >Religion p.5
I don't think it's just Jefferson's generation. I'm pretty sure he's younger than me. Somedays, I feel like everyone is. 8-)
Recently, I was challenged by silence. I determined, for 40 days, to turn off my car radio/cd player. The quiet to and from work would give me time to pray--and to listen.
It was hard!
I discovered that for the same reason I sit in front of the TV--to zone out/escape--I turned music on in the car, or an audio book. I didn't want to think.
Today, I'd probably say that I didn't want to hear my own thoughts. And silence seemed to be an invitation to everything ugly: anger, self-pity, self-righteousness, covetousness, never-ending to-do lists, past hurts and current . . . good grief! Hardly the atmosphere for praying. Yet good time to be with God. We could tackle those things together. I found peace and healing.
When my 40 days were up, I took on some more. It was time for Lent. With a 2 day reprieve, I turned off noise again. I fudged a couple days; and I can tell you why. As soon as I turned on the music, I felt it. It's escape. I don't want to think about that.
Yet, in the second stretch of days, I found myself worshiping . . . singing my own songs, hymns I grew up with or contempory choruses from when I became a Christian. As God prompted, I prayed. As my own heart prompted, I prayed for those I love.
Easter morning, on the way to church, I told Ray, "Wow! I can turn on the radio!" You know what? It's not so great. I don't miss the silence. I miss God--I miss fellowship with Him, because I am . . .
Utterly Dependent . . . and liking it,
Lonnie
