Since writing last week about Len’s posts on Leader As Listener I have been thinking a lot about silence. Often we talk about having “quiet time” with God, but do we really spend time listening to Him during this? Or is it more of a case of reading some bible and praying, or, as is often the case with me, not being very disciplined and suddenly thinking “I haven’t spent anytime with God for x amount of days.” and then quickly squeezing some quiet time in somewhere before rushing back into the day? Does busyness of life cause us to not encounter silence, or do we choose not to encounter it?
I have come across various people in my lifetime who simply can’t stand silence. A few of these people openly admitted that they couldn’t stand being on their own, they had to be surrounded by people all of the time, so that they didn’t have to think and endure silence. Others I know enjoy peace and quiet, and relish times on their own. What is it some of us are trying to avoid by not being silent? Are we worried about what God might say to us, what we might hear?
Another thought I’ve been pondering is how and whether we need to discipline our silence more? Do you find your mind wondering, like mine does, when trying to listen to and focus on God? Do you feel you give Him the attention you ought to, so that he can speak tenderly to you in the quiet places, as well as when he speaks to you in the flow of life?
Good post.
I, too, have been trying to find more quiet time to listen to God lately. My friend Aaron has a saying, “Nothing gets done unless it gets done on purpose”, meaning that we can’t just stand around and wish for something we want to happen, we have to make it happen. Which is going to be seen as ironic a few sentences down.
Toward that end I’ve started attending a small “centering prayer” group every Monday. We practice lectio divina, which is basically sitting and being silent and softly bringing a sacred word (“Lord”, “Jesus”, “mercy”) into our mind. It isn’t meditation, per se – the word is not a mantra. Instead, in your silence, every time you recognize that you are thinking, you just gently acknowledge those thoughts and then let them go (“like a leaf floating down a stream”) and re-center on the sacred word you are using for the day, inviting God to be with you. [This is obviously a very high-level flyover - you can find more resources on this on the web or ask me and I'll forward you some.]
The interesting point being that nothing gets done unless it gets done on purpose, so I am going weekly, and need to figure out how to integrate the practice into my life daily. However, the actual practice itself is quite gentle. It gives up on the idea of trying to “discipline our silence more”, if by that we mean wrestling with our thoughts. Instead, as with Buddhist meditation, we just gently label those thoughts “thinking, thinking” (not, “Thinking! Thinking! Bad dog! No biscuit!”) and then return to the practice. So, yes, “discipline”, as in “practice”, “commitment” (and “disciple”), but not “discipline” as in “control” (or “punishment”). Discipline as in practice, not perfection (thinking about Heidi’s latest blog post here).
Per people who can’t stand silence or being alone, I think that’s the classic extrovert/introvert difference, as described in an excellent Atlantic article some years back. FWIW, I am an introvert, which as the article points out, does not mean “shy” or “reticent”. Instead, the article defines extroverts as people who get energy from being with other people and introverts as those who expend energy in the same situation. Read the article, it will make sense (it was a real “A ha!” moment for me – especially since at the time I was working for a real extrovert, with whom I immediately shared it, so we could better understand each other – it helped).