Silence Nurtures Our Souls
Heading up I-69 at the beginning of a four hour trip, my thoughts were as grey and heavy as the clouds that soaked the highway. Before departing, I had chosen some uplifting music and was loading it in the CD player when I encountered the problem that had occurred off and on for the past month. Error 4 blinked the player. “What?? “I shouted at the inanimate offender. “I thought you were fixed.” Intermittently, for the next fifteen miles, I pushed the load button but to no avail.
That left me with nothing to listen to but the rain pelting my car. Next I decided to fuss at God. What was he wanting from me? The CD breakdown was the last straw in a frustrating week. Finally, understanding that my complaints were fruitless, I opted to take advantage of the silence, took my rosary that hangs from the rearview mirror, and recited it. A sense of calm was my reward. Gratified, I added two of Mother Theresa’s emergency novenas (9 Memorares with an extra to thank God for granting her request). By the time I paused in Bloomington for a short respite, I realized that in the quiet, God had graced me with an idea for my next column. I jotted down some notes then headed north on 69, a more peaceful person.
In his book The Power of Silence, Archbishop Robert C. Sarah states, “Our world no longer hears God because it is constantly speaking at a devastating speed and volume, in order to say nothing.” Think about it. Our modern world is full of distractions. We are bombarded with noise. TVs, radios, cell phones, and electronics rob us of our freedom to process our own thoughts.
Enter any public place and what do you see and hear? TV’s on most walls, piped in music, or people paying more attention to their electronic devices than the persons in their presence. We cannot hear God in this noise. As the Bible clearly states, He is not in the wind, the earthquake, the fire but in the “tiny whispering sound” (1Kings 19:11-12). The din around us overwhelms His whisper. Archbishop Sarah also says, “Noise is a deceptive, addictive, and false tranquilizer” that keeps us from entering into relationship with God.
When my children were in grade school, I taught in the afternoons. As soon as they departed each morning, I had three hours of silence. I relished it so much so that I rarely turned on the stereo or television. Later when I began teaching full time and my life was a series of work, home, and sporting events, I lost my appreciation of that daily quiet time. I grew accustomed to the constant noise and busyness of my life. After I retired, I had to relearn the joy of solitude. Why is it important? Because that time allows me to reflect, rest, and reevaluate my day, my actions, and my priorities. It prepares me for the expected and unexpected occurrences in my life.
Archbishop Sarah says, “Silence is difficult, but it makes man able to allow himself to be led by God… And man is unceasingly surprised by the light that bursts forth then. Silence is more important than any other human work. For it expresses God.”
Setting aside time each day to talk and listen to God provides us an avenue to introspection and tranquility, which in turn strengthens us for life’s challenges. However, like any new endeavor, we must mindfully commit to the process and accept that it takes time to fully develop its potential. If we do, the benefits are a stronger relationship with our Father, which in turn empowers us to deal with our life events.
But wait, there is a bit more to my travel story. Six miles from my destination sunny blue skies had long replaced the grey morning clouds. On a whim, I tested the CD player one last time. To my surprise, it worked. Wanting to test my good fortune further, I grabbed the top CD from the stack, hit the load button, and waited. As I neared my friends’ driveway, the first song began. The title (no kidding!) was “The Sounds of Silence.” Stunned, I realized I had had a companion the entire trip.
Kristine and her husband Jim Schroeder are members of St. Boniface Parish. They have 4 grown children and 19 grandchildren.
