My sister called them cozy days. Times when there could be a hush in the world, times when distance from God collapses into an intimate presence, times when prayer and response are whispered so as not to disturb the holy silence. Times in the closet of which Jesus spoke.
Don’t get me wrong; I love the noisy play of life too. Our family had a yell we would use to keep in contact on a backpack: “Hup, hup, hup, hoooohoooo! Huuup!” And if someone was out of sight they’d yell back. It was sometimes funny; on one hike I hadn’t heard from my wife, Calder, for awhile, so I hollered. She said, laughing, “I’m right here behind you!”
And the sweat and strain and endurance of hard work can be pure pleasure … as well as a pain! When I was working my way through school on a farm crew I relished the hot, humid, grimy work of hauling 60 pound bales of hay. And then it would feel so refreshing to sit under a tree at lunch and drink an ice cold Coke.
But Jesus calls us, still, o’er the tumult of our life’s wild restless sea, as we sing. He calls us to grow, to follow Him, to love and serve and worship Him. He also, simply, invites us to sit at His feet, to be quiet. We have recently turned our dining room into a sitting room, a quiet place to be held by Jesus’ iconic, outstretched hands, inviting us: "Come unto me … and I will give you rest” (Matt 11:28.)
And we then, often in lengthy silence, enter the soft stillness of God’s powerfully quiet Spirit. To behold the beauty of the Lord. What a holy gift…with no price but a bit of time, no noise but breathing, no product but belovedness.