Silence

I slip in my earphones, and carry my camera through the woods, lost in thoughts and music. The forest is pretty, but nothing special – already the bright autumn colors are dimming and most of the leaves lie dead on the ground.



I follow Dad and my little brother on a deer trail. My hat and my jacket keep catching on briars and other plants that have thorns. Finally, I turn of my music and shove the thing in my pocket. And I just listen.

Mentally tuning out the soft chatter of my companions, I hold up my camera and – for once – make myself look through the camera’s eyes, instead of trying to make it see the world through mine. I see the sunlight falling through branches and touching them with light. I see the pine needles mixed with leaves creating a soft carpet beneath my feet. I see all the photographic values in the shapes of the nature around me, and I breath in the cool October air with a joy growing inside of me like sunshine lighting my life.



I can FEEL the silence all around me. It’s heavy and pure and makes me want to make a noise. But I don’t. I just listen to the silence, and I relax in it. Lord, please speak to me in the silence…guide me from my chaotic noise. Push out my busy thoughts. Shove off from the world that never stops making noise…and explore the quiet, misty sea of silence that exists all around us – if we know where to look for it.



I’m soon off walking again. The memory stick for my camera is full, so it goes back into my pocket. I’m feeling drowsy and ready for a nap, so I hurry to catch up with Dad and Caleb. The silence is gone for me. Already, I’ve given in to the world and shrugged off the peace in the silence.



And yet I expect God to speak to me – through the TV, music, the internet, books, tapes, and my swirl of thoughts that never stop going. Because if I stop thinking about the world and my life, I am forced to let God into my mind and heart. The water takes me away, and I am frightened. I don’t want to drown in God’s peace and quiet; I seek the comfort of noise. I’m afraid to put God in control again. God, what do you think you are doing? This is my life, I had plans. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. So I take the wheel and pilot myself back to shore.



Later I’m reminded that I’m feeling rushed and I don’t want to be. The water laps at my feet. Teach me to let me let You take me away…