QUIET

BY WALLACE CALEB BATES

It usually comes at night, once the emails stop, the house is quiet, and the world is no longer asking anything of me.

That is when I feel it: something settles in my chest. It is not anxiety or sadness, but stillness. 

It is the feeling that shows up when things finally slow down enough for me to feel what has been sitting underneath the surface all day. And if I am honest, it used to make me uncomfortable.

I would reach for my phone, turn on the TV, or start thinking through tomorrow’s to-do list, pretty much anything to avoid sitting too long in the quiet.

But I am learning that the quiet is not something to run from, but something to lean into.

When I take a deep breath and let the stillness be what it is, I realize it is not emptiness but space.

Space to think. Space to breathe. Space for God to speak.

These moments, when the day fades and the noise dies down, might be invitations to not do more or fix anything, but to be still long enough to remember that I am not carrying everything alone.

So now, when that feeling comes at night, I do not rush to fill it; instead, I sit with it, breathe through it and remind myself that it is okay. This is sacred ground, even if it feels unfamiliar.

God is here too, especially in the quiet. 

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