Learning to be quiet . . .

I am struck by the noisiness of society and the constant stimulation that bombards our lives. Technology for example, such a wonderful and useful tool, yet it can also be a distraction. Then there is work or ministry, both of which can consume us as we seek to meet deadlines and needs.

Yet the most disruptive noise comes from the thoughts that race around my mind. The expectations I imagine others have of me, or the expectations I have of myself. You know them, those nagging thoughts that speak concerns and worries into my day and leave me drained, empty and wanting to run. 

At such times I remember Elijah; a man who followed God and fulfilled his will in the most extraordinary ways. That is, he did until Jezebel announced her intentions to kill him. Jezebel’s words captured Elijah and caused him to run for the hills. It amazes me how vulnerable Elijah was, although I am equally surprised how vulnerable I am. Fears overtake me too, wearying me as they lead my mind down inane paths that distort truth.

This is usually when I cry out to God, and he comes. Not with a rebuke, but with a quietness that stills my heart and restores me, until he finally instructs me to return.

I desire to follow God, to be able to wait on him and hear his still small voice more. To do so, I need to unplug technology, withdraw from noise and interrupt the cycle of busyness so that I can sit in his presence and listen.

Jesus did this. He spent time with his Father, and he also recognised that his disciples needed to do the same. When they returned from their first ministry trip, at a similar time as John the Baptist’s was murdered, the disciples shared the wonder of all that had been done and taught. Jesus’ response was to take them to a quiet place to rest. Naturally, things didn’t go according to plan, a crowd followed them and eventually those people needed feeding.

After everyone had eaten, and before Jesus dismissed the crowd, he sent his disciples off in a boat. He wanted them to experience quietness, rest and restoration. He knew them so well. He knows us so well. While we might be unaware of the weight we work or minister under, God knows. He also knows the toll it takes on us, and the way our passion and energy can be dissipated even though we persevere on. Often, these are the moments when he wants us slow down and be quiet.

Sometimes we experience resistance to quietness, I think that’s normal, as there seemed to be little support of it in popular western culture. It is a discipline; one I’m relearning and one without which I would not easily stop. Taking a few minutes to be quiet and let God still my heart amid the busyness, allows him to speak into my innermost being. This not only strengthens me to fulfil the work, but ultimately it also fulfils the deepest longing of my life too; the longing to know that I am known, loved and totally accepted by God as I am.

For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress: I shall not be shaken.’ Psalm 62:5-6.

© copyright Gillian Newham 2025

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