Today, is Quiet.
The air is warm, but the sky is dull and wintery. I’ve been wearing sweatpants all morning, and my hair, though washed, is thrown back in an offset ponytail.
I can’t decide if the silence is welcome, or uncomfortable.
But I’m sitting here, coffee in hand, waiting to hear what He has to say to me. Because it’s Tuesday, and I’m already tired, and the week ahead is long, and I just want to hear from Him and remember why it is that I do “all of this”. I want to get past the unfolded the laundry, the long to-do list, the file of hidden day dreams that just don’t have time to take their first steps in reality.
I want the Power of Words to suddenly inspire me in the Spirit to stand up and change the world from my bedspread. I want the words from Scripture to just rise up and set me on my way to a Life Fully Lived.
But I don’t hear anything. Not Yet.
But in the Stillness, I know that He’s here. I know that, for right now, I’m just meant to stop talking. To be quiet.
Not because it’s a beautiful morning with a gorgeous sunrise and birds singing in the background. Not because everything has been so busy that I’ve forgotten to breathe during the breaks. Not because it’s the afternoon, the baby is sleeping, and I finally have a moment.
But because that’s where He is. And lately, I’ve just been Too Loud.
Sometimes my daughter takes a rare moment to stop running and babbling, and just draws close. She sits on my lap, and maybe – just maybe – she’ll sigh and put her head on my shoulder, while my husband beside me gently squeezes my hand. And that feeling of love gets so big, I hold my breath, and it actually hurts.
It actually hurts so. freakin’. much.
If I could do the same for Him… and for just a few moments, stop asking for answers and direction and blessings, and just…
In these quiet days.
May you see Him. May you hear Him. May you love Him.
Until it hurts so. freakin’. much.