Muted

A whirlwind of a week – or two.

It’s good that I’m in Iowa now. But the whole process was more than I want to undertake again anytime soon.

It seems that I’ve been working with cardboard boxes forever. Load ‘em up, schlep them somewhere, spend an entire day driving them westward, unload and unpack while trying to find a place for the contents. And, don’t forget the demands of office emails which are piling up beyond imagination.

And it seems that I get to do this all without what anyone would properly describe as a bed. Online ordering isn’t always what we’d like it to be!

The complaints are done, but there seems to be a legitimate topic for this week in spite of everything.

When my back couldn’t take it anymore, I found that sitting for a few minutes in a recliner eased the pain. While tamping down the twinges that resulted from the twists, I started watching a movie. I would have turned it off, but that was too much work.

Thus, I kept watching a made-in-Norway movie that needed subtitles because everyone in the show was speaking Norsk Bokmål. 

As I watched, I thought that I would turn the volume off since the sound of spoken words added nothing to my understanding of the movie. But I found that didn’t work at all. I needed to keep the sound of voices, or I would find myself losing track of the plot. 

Why should that be?

And then I read the following quote a few days later.

"I have noticed that when all the lights are on, people tend to talk about what they are doing — their outer lives. Sitting round in candlelight or firelight, people start to talk about how they are feeling – their inner lives. They speak subjectively, they argue less, there are longer pauses."

"To sit alone without any electric light is curiously creative. I have my best ideas at dawn or at nightfall, but not if I switch on the lights — then I start thinking about projects, deadlines, demands, and the shadows and shapes of the house become objects, not suggestions, things that need to done, not a background to thought.”  From Why I Adore the Night by Novelist Jeanette Winterson

Maybe you think that the quote and my curiosity about a Norwegian television show might at best be mildly related, but well, you know me.

I submit that the connection is just one word. Muted.

It’s the muting of sound on one side of the tenuous connection compared with the muting of light on the other. 

My inability to mute the sound was equivalent to discussions in the light. As with light, sound was required to follow the movie; the outer life.

In other words, watching the movie without sound would similarly follow conversations in dimmed lighting. My mind would wander in the ways of introspection, curiosity, and well, the inner life. 

Head-snapping question: Do you ever think it's difficult to talk to and more importantly, hear from God?

I remembered Jesus saying something about going into a quiet place and just maybe. I now understood a little more of His wisdom.

In order to follow the movie, I needed the sound (maybe light, if you will) to keep my mind focused on the developing plot. I was not interested in self-reflection, just the outward story.

So, when the light is on, life is busy, the story is being told and I am focused on the world.

But when the light is muted, the sound suppressed, I am in a better position to remove myself from the distractions of the world in favor of hearing the whisper of God.

As we move (quickly it seems) through Advent, I am understanding the 4 weeks to symbolize:

• Week 1: Hope
• Week 1: Peace
• Week 3: Joy
• Week 4: Love

We have already engaged with hope. 

We have longed for peace. 

And this week, JOY.  What could be more joyful than hearing an inner voice from God letting us know, by name, that we are loved beyond understanding?

"Be still and know that I am God..." Ps 46:10