Borrowing from my son, Aaron’s message a week ago, a quote from Mother Teresa. “We need to find God, and he cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is the friend of silence. See how nature — trees, flowers, grass — grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence… We need silence to be able to touch souls.
Earlier this month friends bundled up their children and came over to watch the meteor shower. We sat in lawn chairs with our heads tilted upward, eyes wide open, ooohing and aaahing at each brilliant streak. It was a spectacular show, but you had to be watching. Each shooting star zipped silently across the dark sky. No fanfare announced we should get ready. No sound alerted us to look over here, or watch this. There was no swooshing sound like when you send an email. If you were looking at a different part of the sky, if you dropped your eyes to take a sip of hot cocoa, if you turned to a friend to share a thought — no telling what you’d miss. Each star shot by without a sound. Only afore mentioned ooohs and aaahs, gasps, and “Did-you-see-that?!?” told of having missed a good one. The children chattered, sang out and danced with glee. Good memories in the making! Their mom reminisced — when she was a little girl her family gathered outside in the dark to watch falling stars. And, I can attest, she still gets just as excited as she must have way back when.
All sounds made that evening came from us, but the stars moved in silence. The light show was astounding, astonishing, absolutely beautiful. And all of heaven was silent.
Here’s to silence! Here’s to being quiet as I wait, watch, prepare my heart to celebrate the coming of the Christ child. Christmas — except for Easter — is the holiest of the holidays for me. No words can adequately describe, and perhaps I would do well to be quiet, speachless in anticipation and wonder. Starting now, but first…