My house is empty today. The kids are at work or at school, and my husband is at a meeting at church. Here is a truth: it is a lot easier to think—and pray—when the house is quiet.
After a bit of time alone, I rediscover another truth: a quiet house is a different kind of work.
When life is busy, I have to concentrate on seeing God in and through the people I’m with. The work lies in the momentary pauses, the silent five-second prayers for the Holy Spirit to guide my words, and attentiveness to whether I’m reacting to a situation with emotion or responding in love. If I fail to do any of these, it’s easy to point to circumstances as part of the cause.
Quiet brings me to the sad reality that a different set of distractions are of my own making. Wandering thoughts, restlessness and this-life priorities have a way of popping up in my mind like toddlers in want of attention. Talking to God in silence forces me to admit that my soul is sometimes noisier than my surroundings.
All of which leads me to a third truth: no matter whether we are in chaos or quiet, we need to find ways to communicate with God. Sure, we may prefer one type of prayer, or note that a specific environment is generally more conducive to feeling at peace. But as soon as we start to rely on optimal circumstances to pray our relationship with God is already starting to slip. It is not possible for us to “rejoice always, pray without ceasing” (1 Thessalonians 5:16-17) if we wait for just the right situation to begin. We need to meet God where we are… because He is always there.
