The Radio is not Broken

The silence was deafening.

I wonder who came up with that saying and why it has become the standard to describe the absence of response when something shocking has occurred. It creates discomfort. The noise which lulls us into soporific routines prevents us from hearing what is important. To have quality time with ourselves, we have to be intentional about shutting out the world.

I'm talking about shutting out the noise and then allowing your thoughts to fill that space. Whitney commented to a friend on how I ride around without the radio on. I started doing this after a talk with a good friend who said the author Richard Rohr does this so he can spend time with God. Rohr seeks five hours a day with His maker. I figure thirty minutes in the car, when not fearing for my life or cursing Atlanta traffic, could be a good place to start that search.

(I don't know why I have been shy about my faith when it comes to writing to an audience, like I may offend someone that I don't know, or even worse, offend someone I do know. I might have worried about that even a few months ago but now I think that this is my blog and these are my thoughts, do with them what you will. I'm trying to work things out here.)

I think there is something to the thoughts that come when we are silent, when we seek God in prayer. I think it plays into the intimacy God seeks. When you seek intimacy with a loved one, you don't try to have that conversation at a sporting event. You want your words to be heard, the give and take of conversation to occur without force. Your partner wants your full attention.

I have questions about spirituality, how it all works in my life, where my faith comes in, and how can I know God or seek Him. When people say they have conversations with God, do they get thoughts that don't come from themselves? Is that the Holy Spirit? I know I don't have to know where or how God speaks to us, but my nature would like something explainable. I can recall those times where I have felt His presence and when I feel he has spoken to me directly. I think He is constantly trying to do that but most of the times I am oblivious. But those times are unique to me, and I am certain that God speaks to me differently than He will ever speak to you. For this reason, I turn off my radio, and try to catch Him talking to me. I want to know what He has to say.

I was in the woods a few months ago, and I needed to be there. I believe we have that primal desire to be restored by nature. I went with my father-in-law to his cousin's land in Tennessee. After watching UGA get whooped by Florida, I did not feel a strong desire to watch these older east Tennessee Volunteers cheer on their team, so I strolled out into the woods, to be surrounded by wilderness. Living in Atlanta, or any city that disconnects us from nature, most everything that touches us has been constructed by man. Underneath the full moon and stars, I thought how unoriginal we are. How silly we are to think that mass production is creative. We strive to put things in order, to make our world look normal, and yet nothing God makes is the same. I thought of the woods I was standing in and realized I had never seen identical trees. That thought extended to all creation, which brings me back to my original idea.

I don't know if God wants to talk to me in those quiet moments in my car. I don't know if my prayers always reach him. I don't know how many of you reading this think about God on a daily basis or even believe in a greater power. These aren't questions I am trying to answer for you, or even tell you why something is right. I don't have that authority. I do know that He seeks that relationship with me, and, I think, that he wants my attention when speaking to me, and that if given the opportunity, He would speak to you as well, but only if the silence is deafening.