Friday, January 29, 2016

Embracing Quiet

I'm giving Five Minute Friday a try again this week. The instructions are simple-write for five minutes flat for pure unedited love of the written word. Link back to Five Minute Friday and invite others to join in too. Consider yourselves invited. Finally, be generous and leave an encouraging comment for the person who linked up before you.

Five minutes of Quiet

The phrase takes me back to mothering small children, back to the days and years I yearned for please just five minutes of quiet.

Almost overnight my girls are grown, and more often than not my house has too much of the quiet I once sought. The same cannot be said for my head. My head does it's best to run a steady soundtrack of everything under the sun.

What do I need at the store? Do I need to do laundry? Married life is hard sometimes. Why did I eat that? Why did I say that? Why didn't I say that? My girls. Are they eating right? Healthy? Content? Locking their doors? Not texting while driving? Seeking God's will for their lives? Am I? What am I doing with my life?

What about...what if...I should...I should have...and round and round it goes. 

I'm reading an interesting book at the moment called The Listening Life-Embracing Attentiveness in a World of Distraction. While I'm not too far in, it's already speaking to me. The author (Adam McHugh) says life in this century often has the feel of an emergency room, with no where to go to escape all the noise. He suspects sometimes too, that the absence of quiet may actually be a reluctance for quiet.

In my case I don't think that's true. I don't try to drown out my internal chatter with a lot of external noise in order to avoid facing my internal chatter. I think I'm guilty of quite the opposite. Of giving too much attention to all my internal chatter. One point the author made that has resonated so deeply with me is this...we won't be transformed by giving voice to all the noise in our souls.

And that's a struggle for me.
To quiet my soul and listen.

Listening is not a passive thing. It requires practice and discipline and most of all obedience. I think it's fair to say I'm still a work in progress.


  1. Ah yes - the emergency room feel... I have felt that! So glad we are neighbors today for FMF!

  2. It was a big transition (and still is) to be quiet and let Mandy do the talking. It is so challenging to be the listener. I've always been the big talker. But as my girl approaches 40 (OMG! My daughter will be 40 this year!) I have to let her be...

  3. This is wonderful! I, too, am the mother of little girls who somehow have managed to turn into big girls right before my eyes. It's amazing how the quiet that we yearn for when our children are small, becomes the quiet that reminds us that they're now grown. And so it goes. Blessings. ~ Lisa - your FMF neighbor at #73

  4. I have a busy head too. I agree--life is like an ER. Great analogy!

  5. Oh, sounds like a great book and I may have to run over to Amazon and order it. I am like you in that I think so much, to a fault. You just wait until Grandchildren come along, they just add a whole lot of thought to your quiet.

  6. I love Adam McHugh ... I didn't realize he had this book out. His other book "Introverts in the Church" might have rescued me from all the guilt of NOT being an extrovert and hating "hand shaking time" at every service I attended (ha!). Anyway ... thanks for sharing. I still have kids at home but need to remember it won't always be this LOUD here. :)

  7. It's so hard to NOT listen to those inner voices. I'm trying to do away with all of the external noises and just listen. Very difficult!

  8. Joyce, we are ALL a work in progress in some way. I probably don't listen to my inner voice enough. Good reminder and a great 5-minute write!

  9. You are so right -- we live in a very noisy world. Restaurants being among the worst! It's so hard to carry on a conversation when the entire place is so loud!!

  10. I struggle with quieting my mind enough to read my Bible and pray. It's not an easy thing.