You know what it feels like. That uncommon feeling when you can sit next to someone, maybe at dinner or riding in a car, and complete silence is…ok. It’s just fine. Not awkward. Just peaceful. You’re not searching for the next engaging thing to say or question to ask. Your mind isn’t frantically running around hating every moment of the silence. You’re just completely at ease. The silence is almost welcome, comforting, lovely. Just plain ok.

Why is this possible sometimes? Maybe it’s because you simply know each other that well. That you’ve been together so long that speaking simply isn’t necessary all the time. Almost as though words are not needed to communicate regardless. Or maybe it’s because you’re just too tired to speak or care. The day has been long, you’ve said all the things to all the people, and right now you’re just all talked out. Or maybe it’s because you’re just that confident in that company. There is nothing to prove, no need to showcase your intelligence or depth, no uneasiness in where you stand. Or maybe it’s a matter of history. You come from the same place, have the same family, and your background simply speaks for itself in times of quiet. Whatever the reason, it’s lovely. And just plain ok.

Yesterday was one of those days. Those days when work was hectic and kid commitments were heavy. Many things got done, but more did not and the list was long. The energy was gone, but the pressure to still go was not. Everyone was gone in the house and the silence was…deafening. Not ok. It made the noise in my head louder. It demanded to be heard and obedience was requested. No. It seemed required. And it was simply not…ok.

In this moment, I did what I often do. I started writing lists, but the lists only made the noise louder and my energy lower. Lists were not my answer. So I putzed. You know putzing…finding a corner here that needs attention, then another one there, and yet another one over there. The putzing led to more putzing and more noise and less energy. Putzing was not the answer. So then I did what my good Christian self compelled me to do, a habit I learned shortly after we lost Tim. I Googled for Bible verses about anxiety, about energy, about loneliness, about all the things. I searched and read and searched and read, but nothing was registering. It was simply more doing. Lots and lots of doing. And still not the answer. So wine. Wine was it, right? The quintessential classy way to relax. Yes, wine. Nope. It simply didn’t taste good. Nuts. So tired, so loud, so not ok.

And then something caught my attention outside. A gentle breeze through the leaves on the tiny tree outside my patio door. And for a moment I stopped. I stared. And eventually I sat down on a chair facing outside and just watched. Zoned out really. Just sitting in the silence. And somehow in that moment in dawned on me. This is what sitting with God is like. Being in His presence. That thing that eloquent preachers sometimes say, or inspirational speakers, or even your best Christian friend…just sit with God. Be with Him. But when I’ve heard that in the past I always equated that to praying or reading or meditating even. Doing something. I must do something, right? Or not. At this moment I was sitting on a chair, looking maybe like a creepy neighbor just staring at nothing out the door. Not scrolling. Not drinking. Not even praying. For those moments, I was just sitting with God. And not a thing needed to be said. And it was lovely.

Pslam 139:4 “Before a word is on my tongue you, LORD, know it completely.”

Maybe words are not always needed. He just knew me that well. He was more than aware of my fatigue without me saying a thing. I was completely confident in His knowing. His knowledge of me, my sometimes racing thoughts, my complex brain, my overflowing, overwhelming heart. He knew. Like we came from the same place, the same family. His hands. For He molded me, designed me, and has the most intimate knowledge of me that is Heavenly possible. And we just sat. In the most ok silence I’ve experienced in memorable ever. And it was just…ok.

Today I pray for all of us that we find the moments, the ability, the comfort, of just sitting with Him. Not doing or saying or proving or thinking about anything at all. And that peace envelopes us in the moments we need them the worst, from the One who knows us best. And that we are just…ok.