God & Silence by Darla Wickard

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When I was a little girl, about 5, I took a walk along a small dirt path with my grandfather, enjoying the sun and all the lively activity of nature, birds chirping and squirrels running up and down trees. It was in southern Indiana where my grandparents had a small piece of property with a few acres and a very old cabin, so they could spend some weekends getting away. It was also very close to where my grandmother grew up on a road known as $40 Road, because that was how much it had cost when it was named, or so I’m told.

So, things were simple and straightforward in this little place off the beaten path, and it was a perfect place of quiet, being unplugged from the world for a little while. During that walk with my grandfather, I watched how relaxed and completely comfortable he was. He would alternate between telling me the names of the animals and the trees and then just walk quietly looking around and smiling. My grandfather seemed connected to the outdoors, the natural setting, and for me, in some way, he seemed very close to God. He showed a kind of contentment I didn’t fully understand at age 5, but I knew he looked really happy and peaceful, like he had all the time in the world. He seemed to engage in every aspect of the sounds of nature while staying calm and receptive to the sounds of me, as I asked him a million questions about a spider I was chasing. That day my grandfather showed me how God was everywhere and right there with me, naturally walking beside me. To imagine now 50+ years later, I can still hear my grandfather’s gentle voice on that walk and see his smile, is incredible.

My grandfather’s sense of peace and awareness with God in nature has stayed with me and has encouraged a practice of mindful silence. Taking a walk has always been therapeutic and calming. I start out thinking about all the concerns, problems, to do’s, or activities going on at the time, but then I reach a point where I look up and around again at the sky, trees, houses, etc. and become more engaged in my surroundings as I let go of the pressing things for a while. It is almost like a refresh of appreciation for God being with me on my journey, wherever it takes me. I find a sense of balance and reach a place of mindful silence – to just listen, observe and be present. This same sense of well-being happens when I sit on the back deck at home or when I’m fortunate enough walk along a beach watching the ocean. All the natural amazing things that God has created come into view better when I am truly present. I feel God’s love while breathing in the smell of the ocean, looking at the fog rolling away from the Golden Gate Bridge, or watching a deer eating acorns in my front yard. It’s a sense of connection without words.

Mindful silence in practice has been valuable in my meditation and prayer life with God. Being silent may at first seem like being lonely or detached. I often want a direct response, some note of recognition to reassure me that I’ve been heard, understood, or cared about when communicating with others and with God. It is difficult to wait for a reply, especially in today’s immediate feedback driven world. So, I really appreciate that during that walk years ago, my grandfather had the patience and interest to show me that relaxing conversation along with natural quiet time can be shared and meaningful. These days, in my yoga classes, when the instructor talks about self-awareness, all participants practice a time of meditation and are encouraged to let go in their own comfortable mat-space. There is a shared, connected sense of well-being with others without words. I have found a similar experience in shared prayer with others, after a discussion followed by prayer and brief silence – as we breathe and support one another in response to holding hands in a circle. There is a welcoming sense of stillness as a positive flow of energy moves through that togetherness.

More surprisingly, I shared a time of mindful silence with a group during a Lenten Zoom meeting last spring. We all agreed that we actually felt comfortable being present together in quiet meditation. This was amazing since we joined in from different cities, states, and countries, often meeting one another for the first time, and each of us only viewing one another within our small “home” squares on-screen. In this technology-friendly mindful silence, there was a sense of peace and togetherness I would never have thought possible without an in-person face-to-face experience.

The times in my life when I’ve been the most stressed, unsure, and almost convinced that God wasn’t responding were times when I couldn’t stop the noise of everything else. In those times, God’s assurance has often come as an almost too calm and comforting voice for me to initially accept because the situation felt overwhelming. When I have found the space for mindful silence to quiet that noise, alone or shared in a group, I have been able to listen to God more effectively and pray more fully to express my thoughts, feelings, and concerns. When I can breathe, be more present, and lean into a place of stillness, I can engage in what God has to tell me, and thankfully, God’s love through calm guidance and reassurance has often brought me back to center, recognizing God is naturally walking beside me.