The Sound of Silence

We live with perpetual noise. TVs, devices, traffic, the computer humming beside me, talk - on the phone or in person. Where we live, the train bores through town a few times a day (and night), though I find its sentimental wail a comfort (unless the conductor is apparently hen-pecked at home and has to take it out on us poor townies.) I'm glad that at least I live in the U.S., where we still have some wide-open spaces. I can't imagine living in a crowd, where you become anonymous and the noise must be deafening. 

I was struck by the silence in our home tonight. Time change just happened, so we're all ready for bed way too early. The TV off, everyone's talked out. The heat just kicked on, a comfort that I try to never take for granted. I remember a few times where the stone-coldness of a storm took over and we've slept under ancient quilts. It's only October and I'm already thinking about spring. Are we never satisfied? 

As I think on silence this eve, I am overcome with the vacuum holes in my world. The people, my Daddy, that I have lost. The dear dog that I just said goodbye to. Until recent times, I haven't understood what it means to hear those kinds of silences. No matter how many times you turn to greet them, to pick up the phone to tell them some tidbit...it brings shocks to your heart. Over time, folks tell me, it gets easier. It seems silly to say, "They're just not here." But they're not. They won't answer me back. I want to explain that to them, to ask why aren't you here? I get no answer. I hear no tick of doggie nails on the floor, no response to my queries. It's a strange thing, for someone to be gone. It's not natural, no matter what people say.

I think I get mad at God sometimes, because He doesn't write messages up on the wall. He does what He wants, when He wants. There is a tapestry underneath it all. Sometimes I get a good glimpse, but often and mostly not. Our planet keeps spinning. The stars keep shining. We are picked off, one by one, sometimes early, sometimes late. Yet the world doesn't stop, even when we pause for memorial. The sticks fall to the ground, but we have to pick them back up and put one foot in front of the other. Our time is coming, only God knows when. We try not to think of that. We try to pretend we will live forever, but it's really just a minute 'til it's our turn. 

These things drive my heart to the bottom, where everything seems done for and there's only the bits to be scraped up with the gravy. I look to the hills from whence cometh my help and my help is from the Lord. There is order and design in each molecule of this body, in the luscious tree outside my window, in the sweet eyes of the cat who's mewing for my attention. The deep surrender that is faith, the laying down of my will to a God that is bigger and stranger and more wonderful than all the universes combined...this is peace. When I dig into His book, I find the gold amongst the thorns. And I remember once more, this ain't all there is.