Silence

My daughter, Faith, is a music lover. Well our entire family is full of music lovers. My dad is a drummer and he actually has his own radio program that broadcasts a mix of bluegrass across the world daily. My mom loved country, rock and roll and blues music so I was raised on the likes of Stevie Ray Vaughn, Jimmy Hendrix, The Doors, Janice Joplin, Hank Williams, Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings and Willie Nelson.

One of my other daughters, Harley, loves playing her Grandpa’s old guitar, attended college for music arts, has lead worship in churches for a few years and currently serves in her church as a worship leader. My other daughter, Aubre, loves attending live concerts and still remembers rocking out with dad to the likes of Disciple, Red, Demon Hunter and Skillet. Hope listens to play lists of country and rap at full volume in her room which, elicits shouts from the rest of the family to turn it down.

Grace sings in the shower and is learning to sing with our worship teams at church. Charity is always memorizing a song for a school talent show. Lewis has a playlist of Lecrae, Tedashi, Tripp Lee and Andy Mineo that he wants to crank full volume in the car while taking trips. And my wife, Christy, has some funny dances that are like a hybrid of pop dance moves and country line dancing that she does to her favorite songs when they come on the radio. She also does this to her favorite commercial jingles but that’s a story for another day!

Long story short… We love music at full volume and Faith especially loves Twenty One Pilots which, brings me full circle to the topic of silence. One of Faith’s favorite songs by Twenty One Pilots is a song called “Car Radio”. She’s played it a million times and usually has it cranked up in the kitchen when she’s on dish duty.

Recently when we were traveling to our normal favorite spot on the lake for our annual Marino Family Vacation we listened to this song for the one millionth and one time and it sparked a conversation between Faith and I about the seeming absurdity in the song because over and over again the lead singer repeats that someone has stolen his car radio and now he just sits in silence and at one point near the end of the song he’s screaming “and now I just sit in silence” over and over again.

If you really want to experience this with me just click the image below and hold on tight!

If you’re like me, you may be struggling with an uncomfortable unneasiness that gets provoked by the words of this song and the artistic nature of the video which brings me back to the hot debate that happened between Faith and I.

You have to understand that we’re Italian. When Italians have a conversation we raise our voices, we talk with our hands and we throw out insults like the Royals throw fast balls. We love to debate loudly, we love to win arguments and we love to do it while arguing passionately about anything as silly as what spices to use in our pasta gravy to politics to music to books to movies to you name it… we will hotly and lovingly debate until we win. Our dinner table is a riot because the conversation is often loud and fast and everyone is waving their arms while trying to one up every other person at the table.

And into this chaos enters the word “Selah” which means to pause in silence. Silence is golden they say but I struggle with silence. I struggle with silence because in the silence the churning of my soul becomes at times a deafening roar and I don’t like it. Silence doesn’t always feel golden it oftentimes feels fearful, overwhelming, intimidating, anxious and painful.

If you ask me, I’ll tell you I love the practice of silence and solitude and prayer and writing but I’m learning that I never really knew the art of soul silence until recently. In fact I didn’t even know there was such a category or place. I’d heard of it but only tasted of it in such bite-sized pieces that my inner being has never developed an appetite for it.

Soul silence. Where the storm of life ceases. Where the worry dissipates. Where the depression subsides. Where the loneliness is replaced by presence. Where the frustration is set aside by peace. Where the pain is flooded by healing. Where the fear is overwhelmed by contentment. Where the screaming becomes a quiet whisper. Where the cold rushing winds of life’s struggles become a warm gentle breeze of rest and renewal.

This happened for me recently during a 6 week sabbatical with my family. In essence, somebody stole my car radio and the deafening scream of all that life hurls at me came to a screeching halt like a car on the edge of a cliff where I realized that my soul had been hanging onto the cliff of all that I do with bloody fingernails, fighting to stay alive in the freaky waters of performance and work. Selah. Pause. Silence.

I carried this newfound experience of soul silence back into the first three weeks of re-entering and navigating the stormy seas of family life as kids head back to school and ministry life as I labor to see a church planted in our community. And my commitment has been to fight for the soul silence into which the life-giving presence of God fills the dark spaces of my stormy soul. Whether it takes thirty minutes or thirty hours, my commitment is to sit alone in silence until my Father speaks and the waves cease to rock the boat of my soul.

And the shocking thing for me has been the serious amount of time it takes for my soul to become silent. For the presence of the prince of peace to overflow. It’s not that I believe that my Father isn’t present. It’s that I am understanding how hard it is for me to actually be present.

To move my soul from the space of all that needs to be done and all that isn’t yet fixed has been harder than I envisioned it to be. To recognize the churning in my soul for what it is and to keep my sails set towards absolute stillness is an act of stealing my car radio over and over again until my soul is silent and present in the here and now.

Soul silence. The practice of listening to the winds and waves and thunderous shouts of my soul and begging God to speak to them in the moment. Waiting for God to command them to be still and at peace so that I can be present with him is the rhythm that I must continue to cultivate. I must intentionally move away from all that is externally pressuring me to respond and to react and to gather resources and to get things done and to make things happen.

And as I move away from all of that external pressure I begin to be coherent of the here and now. I take notice of the squirrel running down the power line. I hear my air conditioner turning on. I observe my dogs resting lazily in the sun. I smell Burger King from over the backyard fence. I see the swarm of flies floating in the breeze. My eye catches a leaf falling to the ground. An ant tries to crawl up my shoelace. I am present. I am at full pause. I am in silence. I am in Selah.

And into that silence with the power of my car radio of life’s assault stolen and broken to pieces, I experience the presence and the fullness and the peace of the still, quiet voice of God speaking to my storm the following words of another song writer:

For God alone my soul waits in silence; from him comes my salvation. He alone is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be greatly shaken.

How long will all of you attack a man to batter him, like a leaning wall, a tottering fence? They only plan to thrust him down from his high position. They take pleasure in falsehood. They bless with their mouths, but inwardly they curse. Selah

For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be greatly shaken. On God rests my salvation and my glory; my mighty rock, my refuge is God.

Psalm 62:1 – 7

This song writer, much like the writer of the twenty pilot song, is wrestling with the truth that there is no life giving presence to be found in the loud blasting of all that the car radio of life is blasting him with. He begins with talking about the life that is found in the presence of God alone and then moves into all that his soul is screaming within him… Selah… hit pause… ponder this… be silent… be present… and then the song writer moves to instructing his soul to be silent and wait only for the presence of God to speak.

And now I just sit in silence…