Silence is uncomfortable.
There are movies built around this idea. There is something about true silence that makes us uncomfortable. We seek noise, distraction, anything except silence. From the moment of conception our lives are filled with noise. We learn our mother’s heart beat, our father’s voice. Then we are welcomed into a world with noise everywhere. Machines that produce white noise, brown noise, pink noise. We have so many ways to describe noise. But how many ways do we have to describe silence? We don’t use colors or flowery words. We use strong words like deafening. Our hackles go up when things are too quiet. We think, “What’s wrong?” when the children can’t be heard from the next room.
Even in a practice of silence there is noise. Eastern silence is often accompanied by singing bowls or bells. We turn on colored noise to help us be silent. Why?
Silence can be unsettling. In a Christian solitude practice, that discomfort becomes something else. It’s more than deafening. It is revealing. When the noise falls away, we discover that God has been present all along. We finally become attentive enough to notice Him. The noise can no longer drown out the voice that draws us closer. For many that is where the fear comes from.
Sometimes drawing nearer to God means loosening our grip on the things we’ve been holding most tightly. Silence reveals those inner thoughts that we try to push away. Good thoughts and bad thoughts. Silence does not try to persuade us to be “good” or “bad”. Silence simply reveals what is already there.
A Christian solitude practice doesn’t require complete silence. You may never find a perfectly quiet place. But it does invite us toward inner quiet. For many of us, outer silence becomes the doorway to that quieter heart. Let the silence fall. Sit in it. Don’t rush to fill it. Let yourself be uncomfortable. Become attentive to God. Let Him reveal what has always been there. In the silence, we learn simply to be with Him.