When Quiet Is Screaming Your Name

I do better with quiet.  Some humans don’t.  I have a house full of them.  The gathering, the food, the people and the talk.

Most of my household thrives on living small in a big way.  Big conversations, big meals and happy laughter. Myself and maybe one or two of us are in the minority here.

And many days quiet is screaming my name.

I figured out after years of motherhood that this wasn’t just a “mom alone deprivation,” thing. This thing. It is called quiet.  And is a rare gem that I search for diligently these days.

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Every time I have to share a video on social media for the Raising Generations Today Conference, or when I am speaking and enter a large room full of people, I feel that familiar poke in my gut that tells me to retreat.  To go where it is quiet and no one will know me.

I knew it was time to step away from words last month when I could hear nothing but children and words and when you put the two together, there isn’t even a tiny space of quiet left in your soul. And quiet for me is more than a noise. Or a lack thereof.

It is Jesus.

Because I can see Him. I can know Him. I can love Him. But, if I cannot hear Him, then my own voice and my own thoughts begin to overpower the stronger truths that carry me through the every day noise. And so, my words here had to be stilled. And hushed…until I knew His voice was louder.

That is what yelling is you know.  A lot of nonsense and noise all rolled into one.

My mother had a jar on top of the fridge when I was a girl. I used to watch her add money to it when she yelled and more money when she would yell ugly things.

She said she never wanted to become that yelling parent.  And the jar was her tool for containing the guilt. I get this because guilt can speak louder than quiet.

The noise of teaching fractions, raising girls in the fashion on modesty, housework, making meals in a kitchen with 14 people, diffusing disagreements and making sense of when and where all of these tiny voices became larger, opinionated adults came from…

It is a little overwhelming. Finding the quiet in the blessing.

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That’s the challenge.  It’s ironic, isn’t it.  That I came from two extroverted people, God gave me a big house full of people and a larger than living life and I crave the quiet places.

It is not a craving for something I don’t have because of my circumstances. Quiet calls my name every day, because that is where I hear God the best.

I’ve learned to hear His voice in the middle of the chaos.

When quiet is screaming my name, it is usually because the noise has become louder than the truth. I begin to believe that my life is so crazy busy and so full of clamor that I cannot be with Jesus.  I could resent the calling He has put on my life. The large of it. The public of it and the passion in it.

But, my Jesus is my quiet. The ONE that keeps my heart still when I fear and when I wish to remove my name from any google search or lock my bedroom door and close my eyes.

Because, it doesn’t matter how large, how small, how loud or how crazy your life may be…We all need Jesus.

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He has quieted my heart so that I can think, create and write words again.

I want to live the words of Jesus and show other’s of the promise in His presence.

 

 

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