Last night, Kirk and I had the great pleasure of attending a monthly gathering here in Winter Park, called the Wellspring, led by Jan Richardson and her husband Gary, both of whom we met at a contemplative retreat they led here in town recently.
And wouldn’t you know it, but the theme of this month’s Wellspring gathering was rest. Such apt timing for what we’ve been considering here in this space this week.
After each of the Scripture readings in the service, we entered into a short time of silent reflection. And during one of those silences, I just allowed myself to take in its sound.
What was the sound of silence like?
I could hear the occasional creak of a pew. I could hear the air conditioner’s whir. I could hear the scratch of pen against paper as Kirk jotted down a quick note next to me. I could hear my own thoughts bouncing from one place to the next, from reflection on the passage to the worries I had about my day.
Eventually, my ears tuned to that A/C whir and joined with the image of the sky scene you see in the photo above, which I’d captured just before entering the chapel that night. And it was like my ears and mind and whole being poised, attentive to the sky’s silence for a moment, taking in the sound of clouds, the space of God’s habitation of the heavens.
The sound of clouds. Just being with God.
What is the sound of silence right where you are? When you close your eyes and listen, what do you hear?