Quiet

    There is so much to be observed when I am quiet. The character of my family, the character of a person I spoke with for less than five minutes, the way the tree branches stand apart from the sky, the physical and the intangible.
    But I know so much less about interacting with people when I become more quiet. I don't know what people want to know about me, I don't know what would make them laugh, I forget what might be good to share.
   To gain the quiet, curiosity of my spirit, I lose the ability to communicate as well as I had.
   Must something always be lost in order to gain? In order to gain us, God lost his one son. In order to gain God's kingdom, we must lose ourselves. In order to lose ourselves, we must learn to rule our selfish desires, putting it to death, and so we exchange peace for victory.
   But we gain peace with God. We gain ourselves in Him. For all we lost in our relationship with God, we gained so much more.
   But what of other things? To gain a closer relationship with my family, I put my friends more at a distance. To keep a relationship with my friends, I grow too tired to do things with my family.
   To keep my heart and sanity intact I gave up telling people what I was thinking and feeling, growing content to be alone. I traded loneliness for a lack of skill.
   Through it all, I ask this question: God, what am I doing? Is this right? Am I doing this because I lack faith, or because it is what I am designed to do? Is this preparation for the future, or fighting your will? How do I tell the difference?
   God, who hears every thought, who understands every emotion, who knows me and hears me and stays with me, who changes me to be like you, lead me in the way you would have me go, quiet or a speaker. In the name of Christ, amen.