It stands silently, rather unobtrusively, under the bedroom window waiting for night to fall. It knows that before I hop into bed I will turn the knob that sets its blades whirling and dancing with life. Its gentle hum filling the room, lulling me to sleep.
It first made its appearance when my husband experienced a ringing sound in his ears. We thought the noise of the fan would cover the ringing and help him sleep. It didn't work as planned, but I have become so used to that constant noise I can't sleep well without it. It has become smugly secure knowing we will even take it with us when we spend the night somewhere else. For some reason, when it isn't turned on the silence presses against my ears and I can't sleep. I have become quite dependent on it.
Ironic, since my word for this year is "quiet." Like the consistent hum of the fan, the background noise of my life had become a habit. I was constantly filling the silence, not realizing what I was missing until I simply couldn't hear myself think any more. Worse still, I couldn't hear that gentle whisper above the din.
There is a verse that keeps coming to mind these days:
"Your own ears will hear Him. Right behind you a voice will say, 'This is the way you should go,' whether to the right or to the left."
How I long to be all He created me to be; to live out the story He wrote before I ever drew breath.* I have a tendency to make difficult the simplest of things. I don't have to struggle to find the right path. He is right behind me. Think of it! He is speaking to me, and far too often there is so much noise I cannot hear Him.
I am deliberately creating little oases of quiet throughout my day. Places where I can escape from the noise and just be still. I don't always stop what I'm doing. I just turn off the clamor and drink in the quiet. And often there is the sound of a gentle whisper.
*"Thine eyes have seen my unformed substance; and in Thy book they were all written, the days that were ordained for me, when as yet there was not one of them."