Silence and Slow
The other day, I listened to a podcast conversation between Fr Mike Schmitz and Matt Fradd. Matt said something like, “I’ve been telling people I went to Sydney to give some talks, but what I should say is, “I went to Sydney to proclaim the Gospel.”
Matt Fradd’s words have encouraged me to consider how I describe my role in life. When people ask me what I do, I could say, “I’m a wife, mother, author, blogger and podcaster.” Or I could say:
“With my husband, my best friend, I accept and love our kids whole-heartedly, recognising their uniqueness, while encouraging them to follow their dreams, use their talents and fulfil the missions God has given them.”
“ I spread the message of unconditional love.”
“I help parents who’d like to unschool, providing resources, information, support and encouragement via my books, blogs and podcasts.”
“I write entertaining stories for Catholic children set in a world similar to theirs, hoping to pass on a sense of belonging and a love for our faith.”
I’ve been wondering if I should change some of these statements or even let go of them. Perhaps it’s time for me to do something new. But what? I don’t want to introduce myself with these words: “I’m Sue; I bring pleasure to my family by cleaning our fridge and washing clothes.” I’ve got nothing against sparkling fridges and fresh sunshine-soaked laundry. It’s a delight to provide them for the people I love. But I yearn to join the bigger conversation that extends past our family. Although I’m pretty good at fridge-cleaning, I have other God-given talents I’d like to use. I want to be part of the Great Love Story.
These are the first words I utter every morning as my feet touch the carpet beside my bed: “Here I am, Lord, I come to do Your will.” They’re closely followed by “Speak, Lord, your servant is listening.” But despite my persistence in offering these prayers, God isn’t speaking. Or maybe I’m not listening. I don’t know what God wants me to do now that my kids are grown up and no longer need my all-consuming attention.
This morning, after pouring out my frustrations about my lack of direction, a friend reminded me of my words for this year: “God gave you two words. Perhaps He wants you to focus on them. Answers will arrive in His time.”
My words? I didn’t choose them. I never choose words for each year. These words arrived uninvited. They unexpectedly popped into my head, so I wrote them down. They sounded okay. Actually, I think they’re exactly what I need: silence and slow.
“I’m Sue, and I’m trying to slow down and be silent so I can hear what God wants me to do.”
Another description has just floated into my mind: “I write stories about my life, sharing thoughts about womanhood, marriage and motherhood, and the joys, delights, sorrows and love we experience as we creatively face life’s challenges and try to do God’s will.”
Could that last description be the one I’m searching for? Is this my answer from God? Or is it just a step to somewhere else? I shall ponder longer, go slow, and embrace silence until I know.
Photo
This image was taken by Geoffrey Moore, Unsplash:
Pied currawong (𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘢) & Laughing kookaburra (𝘋𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘭𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘢𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘦) pitched in battle for the Hill’s hoist
A delight of a summer’s morning is listening to the birds calling and feeling the sunshine on my bare skin while hanging freshly laundered clothes on the Hill’s Hoist line.
So, what do you think?
How would you describe what you do? Do you have any words for this year? If you do, did you choose them? Or did they arrive uninvited? And how are they affecting you and what you do?