I shifted in my seat just enough to gather up my legs and tuck my bare feet underneath me to hide them from the cool in the room. The Cameron highlands, unlike the Kuala Lumpur area I have lived in for the past 5 months, is a mountainous area that has crept just high enough into the skyline to escape the fiery of the sun and all of the humid glory that blankets the rest of Malaysia. I was to stay at this 75 degree oasis for the next 4 days for a silent retreat I had been invited to attend. Now, mind you, I have never attended a silent retreat before in my life. I am not a still person, I am not a silent person, I quite enjoy the feeling of strength from powering through all given situations covered in the debris of war with a Braveheart fist in the air and the word “Freedom!” bursting forth from my lungs.
And now it was silence time. A small Chinese woman in her early 60s made her way to the desk that faced this room full of strangers. I towered more than a foot over her in height. Her face was kind, her eyes were gentle as they met mine and offered a warm smile.
I didn’t trust her one bit.
She introduced herself and one of her volunteers placed papers in my hands. “Beauty for Ashes” The bold headliner blared shamelessly and something in me squirmed. I braced myself for the feelings fest, for all of us to sit on the ground and sing Kumbaya and wipe away all negative emotion so we could whimsically burst forth back into the world; walking on rainbows and butterflies. I mean, that’s what these things are for right?
Little did I know.
There is an honesty in silence, in the unavoidable still moment. They fill the spaces between the blows in life, they creep up in the middle of every unbearable situation. We commonly try to squeeze them off of our daily schedule with the much more comfortable hands of a new lover or with the purchase of that dress that blew the budget out of the water or we banish ourselves to the gym until our feet fall off on the tread mill and our biceps are close to the ratio of our head. Now mind you, these are not evil things but can be detrimental when they come at the cost of coping. How you choose to cope with a situation determines a great bit of the person you will become. Stuff betrayal down, hold onto anger, ignore the grieving process of death and every person you hold dear from the time of the affliction on will bare the effects with you.
Exhibit A) A light example: I have a friend, I will call her Stacy, who blew up on her roommate after simply being asked to clean her dishes and counters after she cooked. Stacy is a flexible, kind hearted person and the outburst was out of character for her. This happened multiple times and finally the roommate approached her to resolve the situation. Stacy realized that her anger was actually from. She grew up under a frustrated mom, when it came to chores the question usually went hand in hand with “Why haven’t you done the dishes? Do you think you are better then everyone in this house? You’re just like your dad. It’s so beneath you, isn’t it? You’re father… ” So instead of hearing “Stacy can you just make sure you clean up?” She heard all of the above and more. Just like that the past leaked into her present.
They are terrifying to most, these moments of coping, because we see that everything we thought we had out ran, everything we had powered through and self medicated and all of the blood on our hands are still there waiting when the noises fade; when we move away, when the friends all go home, when we as imperfect humans can not fully sustain each other because we each are mending to our own dysfunctions afflicted by another imperfect human being.
The Chinese woman leaned forward, peered over her glasses and spoke about gratitude, wounds, forgiveness and the scars that remain. I watched the people around me soak her words in, I watched their outer shells of saving face give way to the tired tears. The hurts burrowed in the hearts of all of these people were drawn out. This is were we would remain, in this broken state, baring our wounds for each other if it wasn’t for the story of Love that our tiny teacher wove through each of her messages. In the silence I relearned what the love of Christ could do with an open heart. God doesn’t waste sorrow but makes strength out of weakness and weaves purpose into suffering. He doesn’t ask us to act like the messy chunks of our lives never existed so we can cram them down and live in fear or shame of them, but walks through them with us and offers a grace this world could not even dream to offer. He takes all secrets and relieves them with honestly, He takes all trials and burdens and shapes character. Allow the silence.
“Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls…” Matthew 11:28-29
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