I went to get the heels fixed on my shoes (oh, thank you gravel parking lot). I had two pair of heels and the gentleman said I could wait while he worked on them. I looked around the shop. His wife was working on alterations at the sewing machine while he was tap, tap, tapping on my shoes. It is a humble shop with no frills. I thought it seemed very peaceful. I realized after a few moments what it was that made this little shop different. It was quiet. I loved it. There was the soft hum of the sewing machine and the tapping of the cobblers hammer but that was it, no back-ground noise. I also thought how wonderful it must be to enjoy that quietness during the day.
We are surrounded by noise. Our lives are filled with the tyranny of the urgent. With the advent of cell phones, instant messaging, email, texting, facetime, it seems something is always buzzing and blaring at us. I think about Elijah, in anguish, listening for God's voice. He did not hear it in the mighty wind. He did not find God in the earthquake or in the fire. After the wind, the earthquake and fire, Elijah heard the whisper, the still small voice of God. In the quietness Elijah heard the gentle softness of God in the midst of silence.
Dear God, quiet us. Help us to stop and let your holy presence whisper to us in the silent moments of our lives. Help us to turn off, unplug, sign off with all the distractions and be still. Grant that we may know your gentleness covering us like a baby swaddled for rest. Let us know your shalom – your peace, your wholeness embracing our lives with hope.
When we rest in you we find our peace.