I love quiet. Have always loved it.
Craved it, like a cold drink of water.
Quiet refreshes me. Invigorates me.
Renews my passion, my perspective, my resolve.
Back in the days preceding marriage and motherhood, there was never a lack of quiet. It was abundant.
Quiet nights for rest.
Quiet mornings for prayer.
Quiet afternoons for reading. Or writing.
Quiet evenings enjoying my family.
Then came marriage. Less quiet, but another soul with whom to enjoy it.
Then came babies. Five of them.
No more quiet. No rest. No breaks.
Suddenly I find myself gasping for air, like one drowning.
Where is the quiet? I need quiet!
I fight the urge to raise my voice above the din. To express my frustration, my desperate need.
Like a whisper, my Lord reminds me that true quietness comes from within.
Like a gentle spring, it flows from the hidden places to refresh those who come to it for nourishment.
I exhale and breathe a surrender. And I sense it stealing over me, calming my flustered heart.
His peace. His quiet.