The Healing Silence

Heaven, I am convinced, is THIS quiet.

At least there must be parts of it that are, parts different than the worship party and/or megafeast described in the Revelation.

I'm certain that there are little corners where no human or even angelic-made noise interrupts the silent, wondrous anti-noises of the new earth, restored and perfected to its original intention and thereby inviting the soul to feed on peace.

Otherwise, why would there be all those texts that invite us to be still, and come away? Why would Jesus have been drawn to those solitary places?

If I'm right, I'm touching some of Heaven now.

I am remembering who I am.

Battle fatigue. Makes the contrasts between being in the midst of the deafening, chaotic noise and being silently away from it all somewhat startling. The relentless, randomness that characterized this ministry season just past has left deep wounds of exhaustion, wounds I did not even know I had sustained until I came away to this Heaven-space and, in the silence, began to heal.

Brutal season. One of the most draining and demanding I can remember.

And as the grand finale, I officiated at three funerals within eight days, just before getting here. So I've been thinking about the other-side stuff in the Bible more than usual. And if we understand correctly the parts about being "completed", being the best version of ourselves once we're there, then it makes sense that I might begin to feel the healing of being more me in the silence that is Heaven-on-earth to me.

So this morning I heal in the quiet of the bay, here beside still waters that remind my soul that eventually the chaos will be done, and that I am destined for beautiful things.

Like this.
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