12 Hours of Silence
GCD Weekly Newsletter February 13th 2023
“Once we get going you’ll love it, just you wait!” I said semi-confidently.
She didn’t believe me.
We woke up the next day and from then until dinner, we stayed completely silent. I can’t pinpoint why I thought that would be a good idea, but I’d heard a few people online talking about the benefit of silence for everything from preparing to act on stage to sleeping better, and I just fancied the idea of a day of silence. We communicated with some rudimentary sign language, a few notecards, and lots of hugs and we found that just being together, and doing so with no earbuds, no words, and no distractions brought us so much more peace than I can accurately describe.
Until 24" of pure evil walked into the pub. Sure, it looked like a cute Yorkshire Terrier, but I’m 99% sure that in reality, he was sent by Screwtape to torment us. The dog barked at an octave opera singers would envy, and with an unbelievable persistence, all of which we endured, unable to speak, unwilling to break our own silence. Through gritted teeth, we sat, trying to calm ourselves again, but after a while of waiting for the creature’s owner to do something to stop her fiend, I stepped in. I asked, through a note, whether she would mind me petting him whilst she ate lunch, and she was happy to oblige. It turned out that once he was given some attention, he was quite sweet after all, and was quite happy to stay silent and still—for the most part.
I returned the dog, and she left, and our lives were silent once more.
I’ve tried to learn to rest unsuccessfully now for about four years. I was never taught to rest growing up, and it wasn’t until I got married that I was faced with that reality. When that dog came into our pub, I felt like this was just another failed attempt at learning to rest—our day was ruined. Taking the dog into my arms though, sitting him on my lap, and scratching behind his ear, I was reminded that my rest, my peace, isn’t found in the silence, but in my reliance upon God. It was clear that the reason the dog was barking was because he didn’t feel safe, how often do we feel the same. Whilst I enjoyed my “silent treatment” so to speak, and we plan to do it again, my true rest isn’t found in the silence, but in acting like that dog, and taking my fears, my struggles, and my pain to the God of all Comfort.
In this weeks articles, Jamison Parker and Blake Long talk in two distinct ways about trusting and resting in God in ways which we all struggle with. They challenge us to find our worth in God, and to find comfort in uncomfortable answers to our prayers. I would encourage you today to read one or both of these articles, and to bring your own fears to God.
Grace and Peace,
Adsum Try Ravenhill is married to Anna and together they are passionate about seeing young men and women discipled within the context of the local church. You can find Adsum through his writing at The Raven’s Writing Desk and you can also find Adsum’s articles for GCD here.
Articles of the Week
Can We Be Sure of God’s Affection?
— by Jamison Parker
“The human heart craves affirmation and affection. Careers can be a means of promotion or pats on the back. Relationships are often a means of reaching for affirmation. The heart has a voracious appetite for approval—a craving for affection that outpaces the appetite of a weightlifter for protein. The eyes of the heart will look high and low for a perfect love. But the answer to the heart’s hunt for affection can only be found in divine adoption.”
The Prayer God Always Answers
— by Blake Long
“Sanctification, at its foundation, is the process by which Christians—those who’ve been bought by the precious blood of Jesus Christ—become more and more “devoted to God,” as [Sinclair] Ferguson writes. Sanctification is progressive, not instantaneous.”
Poll of the Week