It is sad but true that in this day and age everything has to be a “problem.” We live in a time of anxious demeanor because it is our manner of giving anxiety the opportunity to do what it does by creating a problem. Anxiety is not something that is inflicted upon us with force from exterior elements. We inflict it upon our own world and upon one another from within ourselves.
Sanctity in these modern days is prescribed with the meaning of having “no doubt,” as when the mind travels from one arena of anxiety to the next in which anxiety does not exist. And perhaps it may mean to lean upon God, to be without anxiety in the midst of anxiousness, so that the debris of doubt may be left for the next traveler to deal with.
In the sense of all that is fundamental—it boils down to the silencing of all contradicting distractions that border your being. Spending a quality amount of time with silence helps to reconcile the contradictions within and around us. And although they will always run rampant, these contradictions cease to be a problem, because the Man Upstairs is the only one who deserves our fullest attention in the depths of silence.
Contradictive conflicts have long existed within the soul of man. Yet when man prefers evaluation to silence—conflict turns constant and carries no solidity to an insoluble situation. We are in no way meant to resolve all contradictions but instead we must live with them and rise above them to heights where only internal solution sees them as the dimness of objective values in which they are, where they become trivial by comparison.
Silence, then, belongs to the substance of sanctity—in silence hope remains steady like a winter’s first snow while strength carries the weight of doubt away.
When silence used to surround me, I saw it as a problem—it was then that I could never escape my own mind to find silence. Then came the day that silence, it ceased to be a problem, and I came to figure out that my mind must’ve influenced it all along.
Still though, I knew the problem would come back to the surface because the internal fruits of subjectivity and understanding would never be enough for my mind. Silence is supposed to show us what is objective and concrete, and it does after awhile.
Silence is meant to be an intimate occasion with something far superior to this world, as beautiful as Being itself. Silence is but a way that we may lean upon the sanctity of God’s silence in a deepened state of peace.
only in returning to me and resting will you be saved. In quietness and confidence is your strength.
Isaiah 30 : 15
We are a society that puts words between our true selves and things. In most cases even God has become just another abstract reality in a land of language that no longer serves as a means of unity with reality. But it is through His Word and the writing of words that I fall into the silence that I seek to move forward with myself.
As I’ve said once before silence clears the air that was once filled with the smokescreen of a man’s mind and his thoughts. In silence we will always stand face to face with the bare being of things, and still we find in the nakedness of reality that is easy to fear, that neither are a matter of anxiety or indignity.
The naked reality of these words should be considered as being clothed in the friendly fabric of silence, and this silence is very much linked to all that is love. The world that words attempt to categorize and control will always sit tight with us, and it is in silence where I have learned to know my reality by respecting it where words have sometimes corrupted it.
When one has lived alone long enough with the new reality surrounding him—adoration of God alone will bring forth a few intriguing words from this silence, and this is the maternal material of Truth.
Words fall between stillness and silence—between the silence of distraction and the silence of our own being. And in between the silence of the world and the silence of God, words will always fall upon our soul. When we are truly content and have known the world in its silence, words we learn are not what separate us from the world, nor from God, nor from ourselves because we know not to trust certain language to contain reality. But it is within the silent sanctuary of the Psalm we find hope in the sound of sanctified words.
If the Lord had not been my help, my soul would soon have lived in the land of silence.
Psalm 94 : 17
It is in stillness of the Psalm where we learn that truth rises in the silence of Being from the quiet tremors of His Word. Then as we sink into silence again, the constricted truth of words pushes us down upon the silence of God.
Or rather He rises with a calm fury from the darkness of a moonlit sea, like a long lost treasure floating upon waves of words and when those waves of words recede—His brightness will forever be a light upon the golden shores of our being.