I’ve been quiet lately
It’s teaching me a lot.
There are moments of clarity, and moments of complete anxiety. When you try to listen, to people, to God, your Mom, lots of pollution block the way. I don’t have much clear space in my head. There are busy ideas, bustling images, emotions I try to capture and shove down deep, and sometimes… I find the quiet.
I went to my friends surgery a few weeks ago. It wasn’t serious, but it was still surgery. His mom and I waited in the waiting room (go figure), and we sat and starred out the fourth floors windows. Stanford Hospital is beautiful, free cups of coffee everywhere, nurses in scrubs, and students stress-fully learning. The waiting room is a strange place. Magazines everywhere, clocks on the wall, light music playing, displays of where your person in surgery is, and people designated to come talk to you. They make every effort in the world to try and take your mind off the surgery. In this quiet place you can hear everyone’s mind racing. Wondering if the surgeries are going to work, will the cancer go away, will we survive this storm. And in this place something beautiful happened.
The doctor came out and talked to us. My friend was still sleeping from the drugs, and His Mom and I listened to the news. The Doctor was really friendly and he showed us pictures. He walked back into another surgery and then we sat. We waited, and waited, and then a man walked over to us. He went to my friends mom and he showed us his pictures. They both had someone they loved with the same problem. They talked for a while. About the procedure, waiting in the waiting room, how many times this happens, and so on. I kept quiet, but I realized something was happening.
We all desire to be known. We all want someone to say “Hi”, “How are you”, “How was your day”, and we don’t feel human without it. We are designed to be together. We are designed to share meals, have commonality, and say things like, “Me too”. The man in the waiting room brought comfort with his “me too”. It was beautiful to see, in the midst of the uncomfortable, an act of “I see you”. Jesus “sees” us. He knows what it is like to be us. He knows what it is like to feel alone, uncomfortable, and even exhausted. He really does care, and He too wants us to see Him.
Maybe if we can be quiet more
Maybe if we can pause the junk in our life
Maybe if we can purge the pollution swirling around in our mind
Maybe we could see Jesus, and maybe we would hear him say “Me too”.
Maybe He is in this storm/trial/good moment/surgery/pain/laughter/test