Silence...

The world is a noisy place.  People talk all the time, about everything and nothing.  Social media has promoted the Culture of Me, and it is constantly amazing to me the amount of information people will share, especially online, and with total strangers.  With cell phones and social media and selfies and the constant barrage of information and photos and videos and news, it is hard to find a quiet place to rest and just be at peace.

I am comfortable with not talking.  I don't feel the need to express myself constantly.  I often think of things I could say, but don't, for a variety of reasons.  I have chosen to share some of my life in my writing, in the hope that it will help someone else feel less alone in their own journey, but most of the time I keep my own counsel.

I am a listener by nature.  I frequently find myself sitting quietly while people talk about themselves and their lives, and it is interesting.  I try to give uplift and support where needed, and share the joy when I can.  I try to be non-judgmental, which opens a lot of doors for people to let down their guard and allow me inside their head.  I am comfortable in the act of just listening.  Someone has to be quiet, and I'm happy when its me.

I think Jesus was a listener.  In reading the accounts of his life, I don't think he was a natural born showman, out front jumping up and down for attention.  I think, rather, the attention came to him because of the message he shared, and it was exhausting for him.  I believe that is why he occasionally had to hide himself away, whether at the home of a friend, in a boat on a lake, or in the Garden of Gethsemane during the Week of the Holy Passion.  He was overwhelmed by the attention, and he had to regroup before he could be at his best, whether in a crowd, or with his disciples and loved ones.

As we approach Palm Sunday, I wonder what Jesus was thinking.  He knew what was ahead, he understood his mission here on earth, he had no doubt about what would soon happen.  There is very little to tell us about his attitude or behavior, but one thing we do know.  He went to the Garden of Gethsemane to pray.  Was he silent in prayer?  Did he cry out in the loneliness?  Or were his prayers inside his own head, spoken only between him and his father?

I am comfortable in the silence.  I enjoy the moments of peaceful repose when I am home, sitting on the sofa in front of my fireplace, relaxed and comforted by the warmth and the quiet and the calm.  It is in those times that I find it easiest to talk to God, without the daily distractions of life pressing in on me.  I wonder if that was what Jesus was seeking, too, when he went off by himself to pray.

Today I am grateful for the silence in my life.  I cherish those moments of peace.