This Christmas season, I wish for you the sound of silence…
In December of 2020, the world at large was in turmoil. My own life was in turmoil. No answers on either front, just a lot of fear.
To make matters worse, I had given my team of young people the option to go home for Christmas. Managers were supposed to stay at the ranch to serve the incoming holiday guests. As each bright-faced, excited front desk employee packed and headed to the airport, my duties began to mount. I wasn’t leaving for Christmas. I was not going “home”, but then, I had no home to go home to. My married children were with spouses and in-laws. Others with their father. Some with friends or other family relatives.
I was alone on Christmas. My first time ever.
Only 9 months into being divorced – still so broken.
I’d dug up a small pine from the forest behind my cabin and dressed it with holiday flair. I’d tied up my heart with a bow of sorrow and tucked it into the corner of my being. I focused on the tasks at hand- the guests arriving at the ranch, checking in and checking out. All merrily spending their dream Christmas in the winter wonderland snow globe of the Rockies.
I awoke Christmas morning, the sadness of my reality permeating the awakening of my day. There was no joy, no excitement, no laughter, no anticipation, no comfort or peace. Just an intense sorrow and longing for family …and “home.”
I focused on work and the numbing tasks in front of me. After the last guest was checked in, I finished the remaining details of the day and walked slowly to my cabin. Piper greeted me with exuberance, the anticipation of a walk evident in her eyes.
Begrudgingly, I changed from work clothes into my snow gear. Piper was high-stepping circles around me, she was ready to go! Truthfully, I just wanted to crawl into bed.
We made our way across the ranch grounds, past the guest cabins and passed through the opening in the fence that divided the 320 Guest Ranch from the wildness of the Gallatin wilderness. The tall pines were dressed in white, a new dusting of snow made evident. The fluffy snow crunched under my feet as I trudged further back in to the haven of mountains and forest. Small animal tracks reminded me we were not alone in our venture. The winter wind, crisp and frigid, kissed my cheeks and stroked my brow. And then I broke. Tears streamed down my cheeks. My soul desperately wanted the human embrace of those who saw me, knew me, and loved me.
I was utterly alone in a wilderness void of any human connection. I was tired of hurting, the daily tears, and the darkness of the unknown.
And then, in my spirit I heard.
“My child, look up.”
The boughs of every pine were skyward, dancing in the winter wind accompanied by swirling snowflakes. Solstice light illuminated the frozen earth and there were “sparkles” – festive attire for this holiest of celebrations.
“Breathe my child.”
With my arms reaching outward, I breathed in deeply. The cold air permeated my lungs with an invigorating energy.
“Listen, my child.”
I stood still and allowed the silence of the wilderness to engulf me, surround me, and cradle me. The silence stilled my aching soul, filled me with a comfort only found in a place of reverence. I closed my eyes and truly listened to the sound of silence. There was a profound quiet. A calming. A fulfillment of mind, body, and soul that only silence can provide. I allowed my whole self to be immersed in silence. My senses awakened and I heard a small chorus of birds softly joining the wind song. I heard the undertones of water over rocks in the nearby creek. The tiniest whisper of snowflakes falling to their destination. The rustle of branches intermixing with the song of nature.
A simple melody. I was seen and loved beyond measure by my God, who knew me more intimately than any other. And my Lord gave me the precious gift of silence on this Christmas day. No hustle, no bustle, no dings or pings. No cars or planes or society’s voices. Just the incredibly beautiful sound of silence. The gift of awakening and a peace that transcends comprehension.
So yes, in the midst of all the raucous “noise” of this Christmas season, I wish for you, the peace and comfort of knowing you are seen and loved beyond measure by the Holiest of Holy, who will meet us intimately in the sound of silence.
