True silence is the rest of the mind; it is to the spirit what sleep is to the body, nourishment and refreshment. ~William Penn
I came home from work yesterday worn out, and then I walked in my kitchen. Argh! Give me a garden to hoe or a trellis to build, and I’m fine, but put me inside with a sink full of dirty dishes, and I will employ any excuse possible to avoid the kitchen. Yesterday was no exception, but I knew that it had to get done, and so I turned to my old stand-by for help–music. When I start to clean my kitchen, I usually pick out some upbeat CD (that doesn’t embarrass my tween daughter, of course) to try to distract myself. Last night, before I picked out my music, however, I opened the kitchen window in front of the sink to get fresh air. It was so balmy here, that I thought it would be nice to feel the cool evening air.
As I lifted the window, I stopped.
Coming down the hill behind my house was the most beautiful sound–a spring breeze rustling through winter trees. It began quietly at the top of the hill, and as it approached our home, it filled the kitchen with the most beautiful noise–the sound of grace.
That breeze offered me a moment of peace while reminding me of the value of quiet. I didn’t jump into my task of clanging dishes around in the sink; rather, I stood silently in front of the window with my eyes closed. My senses and spirit came alive as the Spring breeze brushed past my cheeks. For that moment in time, I could let go of all the thoughts racing in my head and the obligations I had to my home and child and decided to “just be”–just be at peace, just be with God, just be quiet–a gentle reminder of not necessarily what I thought I wanted, but what I needed for my spirit.