Walking the Dog

I’m experiencing a silent Advent. Not by choice, mind you. Laryngitis came to visit going on two weeks now and it’s a daily frustration. I find that I am experiencing a Zechariah-kind-of-Advent of being without voice. To help make the connection more complete, I invite you to read Luke, chapter one to meet or become reacquainted with Zechariah and his wife Elizabeth. In a quick recap: Zechariah was a priest, his name was drawn to serve in the temple, an angel appears and delivers the message that his wife Elizabeth would have a son that would be the forerunner proclaiming Jesus (wild news since the couple is elderly), he questions the angel and is made mute until the child is born. Zechariah is silent for months. Consider that for moment.

While walking the dog, I’ve been thinking about what it means to be silent in a festive, loud, music-filled time of year. It’s frustrating not to sing along to the season’s sacred and secular tunes, to participate with voice in worship with others or to connect with others at gatherings. Would it bother me to be this silent any other time of year? Well, yes. However, I don’t think it would offer me the pause this particular time of silence has delivered as gift. Without a voice, I find I’m more aware of listening deeply to what’s being said and to noticing the silences of others that speak volumes. Without voice, I’m more aware of the sounds and noise that surround me that now when I hear bird song, laughter, rain, Lucy’s paws on the pavement, I hear it differently. I am more grateful.

I wonder how this experience aligns with Zechariah’s. What did he hear, notice, lean in to that helped him navigate the lessons God was placing before him? I wonder how his awareness of God grew in his months pregnant with silence. Being silent, in this wondrous season, has nudged me to gratitude, awareness and to pause. These gifts, from an unlikely experience, lead to a mouthed “thank you” to the Giver of all good gifts.

Advent blessings of peace-full silence to you,

Pastor Harriett