Sunday, February 26, 2012


“Let’s have a moment of silent prayer.”
            The first time I ever heard my Mass Media professor say this; I must say I was quite surprised/confused. I’ve never had a professor say that before. Prayer? Sure. Silent prayer? MMMM….nope. Nevertheless, without fail, every single Mass Media class we have begins with my professor saying, “Let’s have a moment of silent prayer.” We all bow our heads, close our eyes and pray silently.  I’ve noticed something in my 30 some seconds of silent prayer.
                                                            I can’t shut-up.
            I panic. I ramble on and on and on in my head every single time my head goes down and my eyes close. Not only do I ramble, but I ramble at intense speed. Anxiety floods me. “What if I run out of things to say?! Whatnowwhatnowwhatnow?!?!” I don’t like silence.  When I do manage to be silent, my thoughts wander to something with noise. I don’t know how to deal with the quietness.  You would think that after living in a small house with 7 other people that I would relish any form of noiselessness. But I don’t.
            Right now I’m in a place where I cannot articulate what I’m feeling. I can’t articulate it to myself, others, or even God. I’ve been extremely frustrated by this. I was talking to Kristen about it and she interjected with, “He knows Leesh! He knows how you feel even if you don’t!” When FB chatting my friend Rebecca today(YAY!), she said, “I have good news, God is, at this very moment, articulating it to Himself and will reveal it to you at the right time.” I know these things to be true and I accept them in the name of Jesus.
            In the meantime….I’m waiting in silence. I’m in a place of waiting on the Lord…and in waiting, there is silence. And as the silence grows, so grows the fear that He will never speak. And if He never speaks, it means that He has left. Fear of silence is fear of rejection. Fear of silence is fear of death. Believing that God is still there in the quietude is believing that He will truly never leave you or forsake you.
            Though I hate the silence, and though I face an inward struggle every time things quiet down, I know the value of the stillness. There is value in learning to dwell in peace. There is value in being able to hear the voice of the Lord loud and clear when He speaks. There is value in gaining patience. There is value in rest. There is value in learning that Jesus meant it when He said that He would not leave us as orphans. Hm. Silence is a beautiful sound.