Finding Time for Sacred Silence
I once was in a lively spiritual-direction conversation with a minister who was preaching full time, working on his doctorate, and married with young children. His life was inundated with busyness in every segment of his schedule. I asked him if he ever found time to sit in silence. He replied, “there’s no time left in my life now for silence.”
I brainstormed with him a little, asking things like “What do you usually listen to when you’re in your car in Houston traffic?” He replied, “Either the radio or podcasts.” At that point, I pushed a little, suggesting, “it sounds like you could turn off all that and spend some time in silence with God.”
The next session, he came in smiling and proclaimed: “I found my silent time!”
Learning to claim silent time for us overly productive types is counterintuitive. By choice or by conditioning, we tend to believe that doing something, even if it’s busy work, is far better than a few minutes of quiet time. My model for overproductivity came from my hardworking, dedicated dad who I joke had two speeds: fast and none. Sunday afternoon naps were rather routine for him. Otherwise, he kept busy with work, farm life, family events, church gatherings, and sports.
Those of us in the chaplaincy caregiving realm of ministry have the privilege of journeying with people in some of their most challenging life experiences. Yet we also, if we’re really engaged with their narratives, are using much psychic and spiritual energy. We need refreshment.
Henri Nouwen says it this way: “When we are truly listening (in quietness), we know that God is speaking to us, pointing the way, showing the direction. We simply need to learn to keep our ears open.”
One of the most effective ways I’ve learned to enter centering prayer is to begin with the famous verse Psalm 46:10, using it like this:
Be still and know that I am God [time for silence]
Be still and know that I am [silence]
Be still and know [silence]
Be still [silence]
Be [silence]
May the Spirit of God prompt us to nurture our souls with the Spirit’s still, small voice. We need that deep communion, regardless of how busy we are.