More Than an Absence of Noise

By Mary R. Volunteer in El Salvador

In a life this filled, sometimes a little chaotic, and almost always “noisy,” I have been reflecting a lot on how my contemplative life and active life here on mission can coexist. The silence I’ve found here is more a stillness of heart than an absence of noise.

This stillness comes in the moments when the kids are laughing and playing at the end of a long day, because my heart can simply rest in their joyfulness.

It comes in the moments just before a beloved friend blows out the candles on their birthday cake – surrounded by their loved ones, they smile, close their eyes, and hope for all that is to come. And this is a powerful thing, witnessing these moments of hope from people who have known such a deep suffering.

It comes in the moments like the one I had with a dear little friend of mine. He is 12 years old and cannot walk or talk, so he spends most of his time in the hammock in his home. A couple weeks ago, I was with him and his younger sisters, watching Cars and when my little friend gets upset or worked up, he begins to kick, so when this started happening, I went over to his hammock and reached out my hand for him to hold. This calmed him down some, but it happened to be the “Life is a Highway” part of the movie so I started singing along and this calmed him down completely. I realized in this moment as he looked me in the eyes and smiled as I sang to him, that this is a way to bring stillness to the heart of my dear friend. And it brought stillness to mine.

And then there’s the stillness that never changes: the stillness that comes with adoring Our Lord in the Eucharist each day. No matter what is happening outside, it’s just you and the King of Kings. The stillness that we need most, and it never fails.

This is simply to name a few, but silence truly looks different here. And what a gift it is that the Lord still grants us the graces to find it.