The days grow short, the nights long. It is the time of hibernation, celebrations of light like Dawali, Kwanzaa, Hanukkah, Advent and Christmas. It seems counter-intuitive that at a time when all of nature is falling into a renewing sleep, the people in this culture are rushing about trying to get shopping done, parties made, earning year-end bonuses. And as often happens, I find I want to go the other direction than everyone else.
This year, more than any other, I have found myself leaning into the stillness of the early nights and the quieting snows. I have Christmas shopping to do but don't do it. I have parties to organize but can't seem to get them on the calendar. There are concerts and events of interest and note that I am ignoring just to stay home another evening. Three months ago, I would have enjoyably scrambled to creatively fit it all in and still find time to write and cook and sleep with my husband. But that was then, before I hit a wall of frustration and confusion. I had been on a track that felt like a calling, like I was being Spirit-led. Suddenly walls began to appear where once were doorways. Suddenly doors were closing in my face before I could even raise my hand to knock. I asked God about this. And all I heard back was "Be still."
Stillness is not my first instinct when problems and challenges arise. My first instinct is to call a committee meeting...even if that committee is just two people. My first instinct is to "talk it out" or "talk it to death." I've always thought I did better when I got all of the truth out there to deal with. So God says, "be still."
So for the last couple of months, I've been practicing stillness. I've dropped out of some of my groups. I've gone out less with the girls. I've done less running "errands." I've had less lunches. I've spent more days in solitude; sometimes spending an entire day just doing chores around the house in total silence. Sometimes I'm listening for the Spirit. Sometimes I'm reflecting on my heart and God's call. Sometimes I'm creating anew. sometimes I'm just empty and silent; nothing going in or coming out.
Although skeptical at first, I've been amazed at the peace and wholeness I feel now. In the stillness I've rediscovered my self, my spirit. I've taken up my conversations with God again. I've found a presence deep within and all around me. I've noticed that the trees talk, that the sun dances and the moon sings in the dark. Love seems bigger and connection more alive.
I still haven't spoken to the issues that brought me all that frustration. I don't know that I will. When the stillness and waiting are over and it is time again to speak, it might be that Love has moved me to another whole reason for speaking.
For within the stillness, I find Love and Joy singing me lullabies of hope and songs of courage and peace. Within the stillness I find that I am enough, that there is enough grace for all of us; even you, even me.
And Jesus said,"Peace, Be Still."
Peace,
Jules
