Even the word makes quiet when spoken aloud.
I whisper it and my soul breathes and I know I must write on this…to hush.
And not write on love…
For who can write on love when her soul screams for quiet and her heart beats wildly inside of her chest?
When days roll over in waves of noise and distraction and need, one drowns.
And I am drowning.
I wake to the phone beside my bed and I touch the screen to wake the object that never really sleeps. The swooshing of near silent activity mocks the quiet in this house and it is not in the audible noise that I find myself standing neck-deep.
I’m drowning in all that I can’t hear.
I consume words like food and Jesus words are good food, but not when all the words become a jumbled mess in my mind and I can no longer hear the One who wrote them.
Sheer desperation to consume truth and then turn around and pour it out has left me longing for the kind of rest that cannot be bought in an extra hour of sleep at night.
I need soul rest. Quiet time without a book in my lap. Or a screen in my palm.
I need to hush the silent whirl of Jesus seeking and awaken to the truth that in all of my seeking after Him, I have missed Him.
And so, I hush my heart for Lent.
I close all but one book. I untether myself from the screen. I unplug the television. I put away my phone.
And I open wide my empty palms and spread open the broken parts of my heart and I rest…without the quiet noise.
That I may sit at the feet of the very One who longs to give this weary soul rest.