Hi friends and welcome to the Arise, Beloved blog. We have an amazing team of writers behind this blog and our desire is to speak truth into the lies that cripple us and shine light into the darkness that isolates us because we believe that now, more than ever, the Church desperately needs women to be restored so that the world can be set ablaze. Our hope is that you find comfort, solace, and peace in knowing that you are not alone, you are not too far gone and there is ALWAYS hope to be found.
I love the mystery and secrecy of sneaking into churches. I snuck into churches across Europe, finding small, quiet adoration chapels. A rendezvous with God. And there—silence.
There are many books and articles about silence, most of which I have not read, and so I may, unintentionally, say many unoriginal things in this post. But here we go.
I always thought that, since I was introverted, I was comfortable with silence. But I’ve gradually learned that that was not true.
I liked to listen to loud music, rejecting the idea that it was not a distraction from an interior disturbance, but rather forcing the outside world to match the crescendo of my interior life. And to an extent, that is true. I pick music based on my mood. But I should have listened more closely when the music grew louder and the lyrics grew more depressing.
And then, once I think I’ve grown accustomed to quiet, I am placed next to another human being—and I am not at all comfortable with that silence. I think there has to be some sort of exchange, as being near people is already a momentous occasion for me. So I start talking, but it’s usually too intense, too deep, and just too much.
A few weeks ago, there was a silence in our own churches that reminded me of those empty chapels in Europe. Thankfully, the silence is starting to fill. But where can I find silence now?
Everything started to shut down right in the middle of Lent, and my Lenten sacrifices suddenly became irrelevant. To substitute, I stopped listening to music in the car.
I’m not going to pretend as though that small change radically changed my life, but it was very helpful. I realized that I often look for ways to fill silence—whether through music or the Internet—so that I don’t have to face it—or any issues that the silences brings to light.
Silence is not just about decreasing sound. I can also lead a loud life by filling it too full or of things that don’t matter. And not only activities—a worried and stressed interior life also creates a lot of noise. I’m learning to pick and choose the things I can worry about, whether that’s in one day or over the course of the week. Don’t worry about all the things that need to get done; focus on what you can do.
I brought up the topic of silence with my spiritual director, explaining that adoration and prayer was often just a time to rest and be silent because I didn’t allow myself to rest in any other context. She said that silence was a need of mine. Not just for prayer, but for life as a whole. Finding true silence at other parts of my day would free up my prayer time so that I was open to conversations with God.
Silence requires sacrifice. Silence can’t always be found. But silence is a need for everyone.