Suddenly Silent

I've lost my voice and don't know where to find it.

Seriously, some time around Wednesday afternoon I realized that my funny little cough was making it harder for me to talk. By Wednesday night my attempt to talk to my mom on the phone was painful and by Thursday morning, well, it was a good thing I was headed out of town on a (mostly) solitary two day vacation.

This losing my voice thing happens from time to time and is always a bit more than a hassle. Not only is my work dependent upon my voice, but when I am silenced, I am reminded that my voice is the way I interact with the world. Sometimes I have viewed this sudden silence as something of a forced spiritual discipline. It makes me realize how often I feel the need to put my own views and opinions into a conversation, reminds me that I do not actually listen nearly as often or as fully as I think I do.

This time was somewhat different. This time I found that I was comfortable with my silence. I didn't really want or need to enter into long conversations. This got a bit awkward, as I was staying with friends of my parents' and for a brief moment I worried they might judge me as anti-social or a poor conversationalist. I came to realize, of course, that was my own judgment, not theirs. In time, I became comfortable in the role of listener, as they talked to me and to each other. This role of the silent one in the room was fine by me. Fine to let my voice rest. Fine to let my mind rest. Peaceful to hike through the state park and to feel a deep comfort in the silence. It's not often that my mouth is silent; even less so my mind. So, while these few days of silence have been an inconvenience, they have also been a gift.

That said, it's now 9:00 on Saturday night and I have written only half of a (so-far) pretty bad sermon. It might be time for my voice to come back, now. Seriously.