Healing in Silence
I wade through a lot of content on a daily basis. Social media, books, language-learning platforms, Scripture, and podcasts are just some of the things I engage in throughout the week to train my mind to be sharp. These mental exercises are incredibly fun for me, and they help me feel as though I’m paying attention to the important things in life.
But…
Where it gets tricky is in the recognition that none of the information I’m able to intake and remember has the power to quiet the voices within that tell me I will feel peace after more careful study.
I’m also a person who values relationships more than the content I consume and create. I’m a person who loves. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve burned me; my first reaction is always to consider others before elevating my desires. This type of life is incredibly fulfilling for me, and it anchors me in the priorities of my Savior.
But…
The lie is that I’ll find peace in an uncontrolled giving of myself that amounts to smothering. This happens when I ground all of my being into the activity of loving everyone around me without first soaking in the message and reality that I am first loved.
So, what happens when you are consumed, instead of satisfied, by the things you are most gifted in and passionate about? Perhaps burn-out, discouragement, and self-doubt. I know, for me, disappointment in God and others was a reality that came from a place of feeling undesired and unlooked for no matter how much effort I was exerting to feel sought.
As I’ve recognized these things about myself, I’ve wondered what the necessary steps are for healing. Because, with my eccentric personality and able body, it’s easy to dodge the invitations of my body amid disappointment and exhaustion. I stuff myself full of more content in order to find more inspiration. I anxiously rev myself up to love when what my vehicle really needs is inactivity.
I’m discovering that healing from the indefinite demands of digesting and divulging content and resting while striving to love holistically both necessitate a constantly-contested practice: silence.
My body’s invitation is to rest, and so is yours. Granted, the information on mental health and breathing techniques some of us are newly gleaning protests the cultures most of us abide: hustle; name-making; outrunning our past shame by trying to highlight new healthy rhythms that are exactly that… new. While all of these qualities have good intentions behind them, they aim to elude the necessary work of rest, which is mocked by our society.
We can’t afford to submit ourselves to the hurried expectations of the world, especially if we want to see the world (and ourselves in it) healed—made whole. However, we can be attentive and compassionate to the needs of the world if we apply ourselves by resting in silence.
Do you remember what I said up above about outrunning your past shame by highlighting new healthy rhythms? In a way, that’s what I’m doing right now. So, to self-justify, I wanna explain what I’m not saying… I’m not saying Silence is easy for me, or that I do it well.
In fact, I downloaded (AND PAID FOR) the Calm app fifteen months ago. It’s incredible. It helps guide its participants on a journey of mindfulness and breathing. It’s conducive for religious people and reflective humans who are desiring to meet and befriend the stress, anxiety, and grief stored in their bodies. It teaches us, in tiny bits, and allows the oceanic melodies to lead us into the terrain of our souls, not with more thoughts and responsibilities to ponder but to center into ourselves and listen to our bodies. As a Christian, to listen to what God is speaking to me through my body.
The thing is, I tried to get good at mindfulness and silence too fast. I tried to sit in silence with no prompts two weeks into using the app, thinking I’d trained myself well enough in the art of noticing and befriending all that goes on within. I tried the practices without Calm’s help and became very frustrated that I wasn’t proficient at sitting in silence, scanning my body, breathing, and letting my thoughts float on as I surrender to all the feelings that could arise any given day.
The past fifteen months have not been my first go at becoming a contemplative. As y’all know, I’ve been a Christian for over a decade. The meditative and contemplative traditions/practices are all over the landscape of the Hebrew Scriptures and the New Testament. But, every time I’ve tried to sustain this lifestyle I’ve failed. I’ve practiced silence with a large group of people, in individual meet-ups, in order to fulfill my body’s cry for peace and silence, for healing.
I’ve had myriad fits and starts with waiting on God in silence. But, I’m committed to still trying. Because I know there’s healing there. Not the type of healing that relieves the physical pain from my body once I’m able to locate it. Nor the type that vanquishes the loneliness I know will confront me. The healing comes, in part, during the waiting process itself. The silence makes us aware of the pain that we try to outmaneuver.
However…
The silence also opens us up to the miraculous ways the Spirit intends to shed God’s love abroad in our hearts.1 This healing in silence is in tension with our instincts to run away when it doesn't arrive when we desire. And that's ok... The Lord doesn't withhold healing from us because we're not quite good at just breathing. Yet, there is something to be said about deliberately avoiding silence to the point where our brains are so resistant to inner work that we continue on the path of distraction and mental fragmentation. If we get there... it still won't be the end of the road, thankfully, but it's crucial for us to step into the world of silence and see what awaits us there as we await God.
This title Healing in Silence carries with it the belief that there is definite healing to be found in silence and that we are progressively healing in the practice. There is no shortcut to listening to your body, just like there is none in normal conversations with our friends. We may not always see the dividends, but there is a God who walks with us and is working to heal us in the mundane. Let’s listen :)
Love y’all :)
Romans 5:3