Silence has a Sound

Silence is a work of art. It is a choice. It is a canvass. It is a miracle of life.

Even the brush strokes have noise. Bristles to paper. The splashing of water. The insistence of color. Red is loud and blue has the hues of ice. Yellow demands its way. Green is the rustling of leaves. There is still SOUND.

The art of writing is even noisy. The tap of keys on a keyboard, strikes, movement. The sound of air or breath. Long sighs and even pauses. There is still SOUND.

We run away to find silence. It is an attraction. The insides of monasteries. The center of the Eucharist. It is deception. But not deception of the thing in and of itself. No, on the contrary that is the truth. The monastery, the Eucharist all reflect the silence we seek. It is not the world that is noisy but the inside of our souls. It is why we fall to our knees before the Blessed Sacrament praying for air and can hear the slamming of a car door, the buzzing bee, the murmurs of conversation. Silence makes us more attuned to noise and God does not want us to absolve ourselves from it but rather to sit in it and with it. How could heaven in all its splendor not include sound? The sounds of angels and trumpets, of the voice of God and of the saints. No, rather God is saying to us, let your souls cry for silence! Let your souls demand it! Let the face of the Blessed Sacrament reflect back on your face the gift of INTERIOR silence, so that I may teach you to have peace amidst the commotion of your busy world, the hustle and bustle and in ALL circumstances. I want you to carry with you that silence. In the pain of your wounded marriage, in the unexpected death of your loved one, in your screaming children. I want it to envelop you in my Holy light, so that when your soul is suffering it finds its place, right in the center of my heart. In the center of my Holy and uninterrupted silence.

No my child, do not run away from noise but run towards it and bring my silence with you in the inside cavern of your soul. You who everyday walk my streets, feed my children and bare my scars to the world. Rejoice in the noise! It is then that I test you. It is only then that your spiritual practices can be put to the test.

And all this in the Blessed Sacrament. In the thirty minutes, In the noise from the outside. In running away. This from seeking solace from Him, answers from Him as to why I cannot get quiet. A loving rebuke, a joyful discipline.

The world does not conform to your needs. The universe and all that is in it is mine, He says. You conform to its needs.

For the ones that he has left behind in the world, not in cloistered convents, or monasteries or hopelessly tucked away. For those whose vocation is marriage or motherhood or some other form of non-religious life. It is then that He tests us. Can you find the comfort of the cloister in the silence of your heart? Can you put on the habit despite the noise? Can you place yourself in the center of my will when it is loud?

The circumstances of life are what they are- and they will keep coming, as surely as the sun will rise tomorrow. But will YOUR will finally give itself up to be fused into the Holy and Divine Will of God? And what if not for silence? Are we simply running INTO the burning sun rather than standing back to feel its rays? We cannot consume ourselves in Holiness without the acceptance of our own individual realities, our stages in this present life and each and every circumstance that presents itself.

When Jesus rebuked the wind and the waves, the storm in our souls should have calmed. That is his Holy and Divine Will. To accept that this act he performed presented us all the silence we need.

You may still hear the pull of the waves and the rocking of the boat. But your soul. Your soul will be still…

Give up the time

Jennifer Fulwiler, a Catholic radio host on Sirius XM, has a segment on Fridays called Jen’s Jukebox, where callers share their favorite secular songs that have a spiritual meaning to them. The hard and fast rule: the song cannot be a Christian song. This provides insight on the caller’s behalf to attach spiritual meaning behind pop culture words.

When I finally sat down to watch the movie “A Star is Born, ” I was upset and dissapointed that after weeks of trial and tribulation, the Lord had allowed me to watch such a deeply painful movie. The songs were vibrant and way too real, and my heart came away so heavy,- even moreso than it had before. I looked at my husband in the midst of tears and heavy gasping breaths and refused to let go of his hand. I apologized for anything that I had ever done to him. I apologized for being so petty at times and told him that I valued him beyond comprehension. But the tears and the heaviness on my chest would not go away. And after this last song, “I’ll never love again,” I could not hold onto him tight enough. All of the memories between us passed in hyperspeed through my very human and remorseful mind.

Why do we hurt the ones we love the most?

And as he held me and  told me that I was being overly harsh on myself, I couldn’t help but think of the other marriages that have suffered and are suffering over human selfishness. In the core of my being I wanted to shout out to all of them that the devil is a liar, there is a hole of nothing on the other side. 

These deeply painful lessons that I have learned about the sacred gift of marriage came at a high cost, but forced me straight into the arms of Jesus, who held me tightly when I couldn’t hold my own self up.

You see my husband was the casualty of another man’s sin. And so that man’s sin did not only effect me, but in turn effected a  multitude of people.

When you are running inside of yourself to get away there is nowhere to go but out.

I have left many people this way- in the wake of my inability to deal with conflict and pain. It was too difficult to let them love me, and too difficult to explain the depths of my pain. But to the one that loved me the most, I was slipping away. I couldn’t love my husband because I couldn’t love myself. I hated myself. 

In my cries for help, he could not recognize or hear me. In those dreams that I had over and over where I was in grave danger and my phone refused to call 911 as many times as I tried to dial, something was preventing me from pressing down on those numbers. I tried many times but a force greater than me controlled my fingers. I was spiraling and nobody seemed to be able to help me. How could they not see, I thought. How could they not see I’m drowning?

But rather than an extended arm I had arms that pushed me farther down. My sin became greater. And once in, I could not get out- there was no way out, until the great Master came and rescued me.

Sharing the details of one’s own demise is deeply personal and greatly distressing. But my demise was not my end, it was my beginning. The great healer saved me, saved my marriage, told me it was ok to be completely broken, shattered in a million pieces. And rather than sweep those pieces up and toss them in the garbage, he used them and is using them to create HIS masterpiece. There are pieces still missing, but I am living them. They, like the others, will one day be part of God’s greater plan.

And although I have apologized to my husband one thousand times, I apologized again to him for not having the courage to get help sooner. I could have lost everything, we could have lost everything. How could I ever thank Christ? I can’t. There are limitations to my human self.

How can you thank me? He said this morning.

Write your words. Speak your truth.

So after two years of being away from this keyboard, in the painful turmoil of my soul, he has worked enough on me that he finds me worthy to type his words to the world.

Our work for the Lord is never in vain. Hold on for the ride.

Shlomi I love you.