The sound of silence

 

The sound of silence.

My Monday walking partner forgot it was Monday, so I walked alone. I walked, and I paused, and I listened. Apparently alone in a rural landscape, I heard the drone of work traffic from a mile or two away. A helicopter chopped past overhead.

I waited and listened. The sound of many birds – a choir of random rhythm and various keys. We used to get a regular visitor to our B&B who was a keen birdwatcher. Iain told us he heard the songs of 37 different types of birds round our back woods. His ear was trained. He heard and identified.

I heard – maybe six or seven different songs and tweets. My untrained ear no doubt missed many songs.

I ask God to speak to me. Guide me. Tell me what to do or say. I don’t always hear. I know he speaks; I need to train my ear to hear.

I need to be still - even in the midst. To listen. To listen in the cacophony of a busy household; to listen in the silence; to listen in the reading of his word; to listen to those I meet. He speaks. He sings. Zephaniah writes that he sings over us with joy.

May we all sense his song over, around and through us today. May we rest assured that he is with us: his love, mercy, peace and kindness are his gifts to us today.