Listening in the Too-Quiet House

Often, life bombards us with sounds—loud talkers on cell phones in public places, raised voices in debate over inconsequential nonsense, too-loud music in restaurants, construction noise, car horns. A cacophony of sounds assault us on a regular basis. How many times have you longed for a little peace and quiet?

As an only child, I was accustomed to a quiet house. My parents spoke to me and each other softly. When I was a young child, if I got overly loud, my daddy would say, “Come here. Let me adjust your volume,” and then pretend to turn a knob on my shoulder or head. I knew that meant to calm my rambunctious behavior and lower my voice.

After Jim and I married, we committed to making our home a haven. Our children weren’t allowed to call each other names or shout at each other.

After one of Neely’s college friends visited our home, she remarked, “You have a quiet family.”

Following Jim’s death, I talked a lot, telling and retelling the details of finding him and subsequent events. I answered questions, texted, and called. Sometimes, I retreated to the bedroom to escape the hubbub of a full house and many voices.

Now, I’m getting used to a too-quiet house.

For years, Jim entered the house whistling. When Neely and Jay were little, the sound of whistling elicited a shout of “Daddy’s home!” followed by running feet and happy greetings. “Hey, baby girl! Hey, big bud!”

In the month prior to Jim’s death, Christmas carols and portions of the choir Christmas music floated through our house as Jim whistled. Sometimes, he’d get stuck on a particular portion of a song and whistle the same riff over and over until I said, “turn the page.” We’d laugh. Then he’d say, “I wondered how long it would take you to get tired of that measure.” Now, I’d be happy to hear him whistle all day.

Jim’s insulin pump had lots of beeps and buzzes of various lengths and volumes, signaling the need for adjustments, a battery recharge, or a needed reservoir refill. Sometimes, Jim was so engrossed in what he was doing he didn’t hear the beeps and buzzes. Other times, perhaps he ignored them on purpose. Some nights, the beeps and buzzes demanded immediate attention and he’d retreat to the den recliner to avoid keeping me awake.

Now, when I wake during the night, I listen for formerly annoying beeps and buzzes. I miss the rhythmic breathing of Jim’s CPAP. The house is too quiet. But in the stillness and silence, I feel God’s presence and hear His voice, instructing, reminding, comforting. I cling to my Heavenly Father, expectant, excited, the same way our children ran to their whistling daddy.

Are you living in a too quiet house? Are you missing loved ones who used to fill the house with laughter, music, or whistling? In the too quiet house, do you recognize and heed God’s voice, or do you drown out His voice with noise of your own making? Maybe you’ve ignored God’s voice so long you’ve forgotten what it sounds like. What do you need to silence in order to hear God again?

A friend once told me he knew he was running from God when he got in the car and turned on the radio. The car was his place of speaking to God and listening for His reply. Does your quiet house need to become that for you, a place of prayer and listening?

Perhaps now is the time to begin to make room for God in your noisy world. Relish silence. Listen for God’s voice. Pay attention to His guidance and instruction. You don’t have to do life on your own. You don’t have to initiate forward motion in your own strength. Let God’s peace, comfort, and counsel lead you forward to something fresh and new.

“I will bless the LORD who guides me; even at night my heart instructs me” (Psalm 16:7 NLT).

“Better is a handful of quietness than two hands full of toil and a striving after wind” (Ecclesiastes 4:6 ESV).

©CandyArrington

Candy Arrington is a writer, blogger, speaker, and freelance editor. She often writes on tough topics with a focus on moving through, and beyond, difficult life circumstances. Candy has written hundreds of articles, stories, and devotionals published by numerous outlets including: Inspiration.org, Arisedaily.com, CBN.com, Healthgrades.com, Care.com, Focus on the Family, NextAvenue.org, CountryLiving.com, and Writer’s Digest. Candy’s books include Life on Pause: Learning to Wait Well (Bold Vision Books), When Your Aging Parent Needs Care (Harvest House), and AFTERSHOCK: Help, Hope, and Healing in the Wake of Suicide (B&H Publishing Group).

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