toomuchtoomuchtoomuch! has been my cry this Lent.
"Remove me from the noise!" I shouted to God.
And so, for Lent, I contrived scenarios of quiet. Mostly they were times when noise was elusive anyway--like at the break of day or in the quietness of a house wrapped in sleep. And God was there and it were good. And my overly planned silences certainly helped during the times when noise was my constant companion--like during the pre-dinner "witching hour" or the mad dash out the door for school at 7:30 a.m.
But rather than my will, through the courtesy of God's, He took it a step further. He removed the noise from me. It was only for a few hours, but it was in the depths of a valley of musts, shoulds and oughtas that were stealing my joy from what had started out as a pretty decent day. Suddenly, in the midst of the chaos of my mind, we heard a crack...saw a flicker...and then as the dusk settled in around our home--quiet. And in the quiet? There was God.
"Be still," God spontaneously said to me that afternoon, "and know that I AM."