Our culture is ripe with messages which encourage us to “live your best life now,” to always be “killing it,” and to be running at 100% nonstop. Yet the example Jesus models in the gospels is one of quiet contemplation balanced with compassionate interaction. We can see the pendulum swing time and time again as he withdrew to solitary places from the crowds and from the disciples (Matthew 14:11, Mark 1:45, Luke 5:15-16) and then re-engaged with people.
When we are silent and still before God, we become aware of how loud our thoughts actually are, how often our minds wander and worry, and who we really are when everything else is stripped away. We’re exposed to our neediness as we surrender our inability to focus in prayer.
For some, this may stir up fear that we will be met with disapproval from God or that our thoughts will become too overwhelming or limiting. Maybe even this fear can be a place of invitation where we can openly share our fears with God as we enter into silence.
In solitude and stillness, we’re also invited to recall who we are in God apart from what we do. This does not mean our actions are meaningless. On the contrary, as we experience more of our blessed belovedness, our justice efforts and labor can then flow out of a place of rest rather than striving, remembering that we are co-laborers with Christ and with others.
God may also open our eyes to potential blindspots in the ways we relate with our sisters and brothers, allowing us to see clearly the impact we have and to enter more fully into the lives of others, seeing all those around us as the blessed and beloved of God.
