Tag Archives: silence

Making Room for the Oh in My Restless Soul


Image Source: http://www.flickr.com/photos/ericwelker/4033225379/

You were talking to me around 8:30 on Sunday morning, but I didn’t listen as I looked down at my feet, surrounded by a landscape of dead pine needles. One foot moved in front of the other, and I didn’t hear You telling me about the Beauty; the Beauty in breath.

I inhaled and exhaled, and as usual, Your words refused to return void. They tucked themselves into a pocket in my mind; ready to be heard when I was willing to listen.

Later on in the day, I reached deep in my mind’s pocket, while shoveling a forkful of colorful stew into my mouth, and I thought, Oh.

My mouth moved slowly, as I chewed on carrots and potatoes and the Oh of my restless soul.

I realized that I’ve been encountering the mere thought of stillness with a sort of suspicion. I eye the possibility of solitude, and ask, “What will you take from me now?

The comfort which I remember finding in daily stillness seems like a stranger bent on stealing my strength and my joy. I remember the beauty of stillness and of solitude, but these days I couldn’t describe it to anyone; it’s all fuzzy.

And yesterday morning, as I took those quiet steps against the pine needles, You gave me breath, but I didn’t see the Beauty because I wouldn’t settle into the silence. I moved thoughts in front of the quiet, rearranged my interior self without an eye for Beauty, but just because I couldn’t understand how to see it didn’t mean it wasn’t there.

You’re giving me breath, and it’s a beautiful gift. It doesn’t always feel that way; sometimes breathing is filled with fear, and You know that.

I’d like to say, Oh a little more often, and within that syllable believe that You are there with me in the quiet, willing to crowd out the fear if I’ll let You.

{Thinking on this today, “A silence in which He is no longer sought ceases to speak to us of Him.”- Thomas Merton, Thoughts in Solitude. Thanks for reading.}