In the Silence

Several times, my fingers found their way to type and process thoughts here.  Yet, after a few paragraphs...it seemed, the story I have to share--with the virtual world at least--is a redundant one from the April 1st experience. The "Westernization of Wayfarers" journey is one that has demanded long stretches of silence and stillness.  So I decided to let the prior message stand in its singularity to avoid such redundancy, as I have had to grow comfortable in my own silence and stillness within the redundancy of the journey's message.

Now it is June.

I am reminded daily that the "due date" chosen by doctors (and not by God) has passed for the birthday of our Danforth.  It is amazing that each passing day can be so huge-feeling when it is actually compared to the scale of months and years that actually exist in one's life.  Each day can (and at some soon point, will) represent the last day and the first day for Corey and I; in the immediate leaving of one journey and radically throwing us into the next.  And we know not the day nor the hour when this change will occur.

So, the big redundant theme: what does living fully when our hands feel tied from moving, actually look like?

Take this from a girl who lived some solid years "finding herself" in all the cool things she did...

Traveling and constant streams of what the world labels as "adventure" are...actually....extremely redundant too.  Before eyes roll or something...since I have no one here to stop my flow of finger-typed thoughts...I obviously will go on without delay in explanation.

Of course, every young and old person has a thread within them that literally needs to feel that their life contains adventure worth sharing with others. Some fulfill this adventure need by traveling the world of wonders taking all sorts of exotic pictures and writing home about them, others find it through filling life with literal stuff or activities, others by bending their minds with some kind of chemical to bring them into another perception of life, others by continually throwing out exuberant dream after dream of idea, and so on.  The point is, we all are looking for adventure in this lifetime in our own approaches, right?

Okay, so "living fully" and "adventure" are pretty interchangeable terms.  Everyone's definition of that is going to be their own...but the point is...we are all trying to figure out what the heck that looks like in our own lives.  And when we get bored of one adventure-seeking-method, we naturally go into the next.  Why is it that world travelers keep traveling to new places, or stuff buyers buy more, or activity doers challenge themselves with new levels of activity, or mind-benders seek out more highs, or big dreamers continue the flow of intangible dreaming?

I hope it's safe to say, that this is an inevitable portion of our human nature's experience.  And also, that it isn't wrong or at all worth condemning.  Perhaps, just in need of some refinement.

You see, when I was "finding myself" in the level of variety and experience that I was having...at some point...it was still just me, day-to-day, trying to figure out how to feel like life was full and beautiful--no matter how extreme of an environment my actual self was in.  To admit, there was a part of me that was probably easiest fulfilled in these adventures, when I could write home about them and receive a bit of jealousy feedback from those stuck at home reading about it all from their day-to-day couches and chairs.  It wasn't entirely that, but I think any traveler might agree, that part of why we like to take pictures beyond capturing moments for our own memories, is so that we can share them with the people that are living more "normal" or "different" lives back at home and receive their applause and awe for how "adventurously awesome" we are.  And that's just one category.

The point isn't that "we humans sure do like to make others jealous for the stuff we do and get attention"---that is only an example of a portion of something I discovered in my past "world traveling identity" that I took on with so much pride.  However, there are certainly other facets as well.   For those that fill life with stuff, adventure, mind bending experiences, or constant dreams...I'd say, there is a certain amount of boredom that propels the human nature into doing something more, something else, and something more exotic than the last experience.

So how does this relate to anything having do do with the fact that it's June 24th, 2014 and we are waiting at any moment for my uterus to begin contracting to bring forth our Danforth.

In these 9 months of growing this baby, I have found, now that I'm at the end...there is an unusual amount of peace and comfort with the lack of happening that is going on in our lives.

You see, Corey and I no longer have employment.  I am becoming a mother, and Corey is understandably desperate to leave the place of his youth and bring our family into a place where things are less comfortable and more thought provoking.  We're thinking someplace like Austin. Unfortunately, it has become the standard story: cross-country virtual application process...and it is quite ridiculous.

So we could have our son at any moment, we're trying to figure out with our logical minds how to bring him into an environment that is stable--as far as having a source of income...and we're trying to balance that with the need that is so deep within us, the need for adventure and life-fulfillment.  That shared need is what brought us together from day one, when Corey found me after the first day of Anthropology class, because my adventure story was more extreme than his--and he thought he had the trump card of experiences in our 80-person class....and little did he know...


Yeah, it'd be easy to just sign another year-lease in our apartment, for Corey to find a job through his connections here, for us to live, literally, right around the corner from the grandparents-to-be, etc etc.  Unfortunately, even on the eve of expectation for something as exciting as a new family addition...we both feel like a part of us would be dying.  The thing is, our child is a product of who we are...and it would be strange behavior to stop all of that for the sake of stability, and...even practicality.  Did life ever get fulfilled by being practical at the pivotal and defining moments?


Well, we are still sorting through these questions and wondering if it is or is not ludicrous to be looking at buying a motorhome with the small amount of capital we have from selling Zephyrus.  (Yep, it actually happened...we're no longer sailboat owners.)  We are wondering if leaving our home and support network, and going into unknown territories is just plain stupid or what.  But whatever...these questions can only be asked right now and not answered, my hands are still tied like they were on the power outage on April 1st....and I am left with today.  I am left with myself.  Even in a world of adventure and change, it is still, just me, sitting here, trying to feel fulfilled.

Trying to feel fulfilled APART from the dreams, the adventure, the excitement.  I have too often placed my identity in the "upcoming" or the "things" surrounding me.  And it works, it lasts...but it's temporary.  I can't place my identity in the fact that I'm becoming a mother either.  Yes, it's a new journey and it is going to demand a freakish amount of time and absorption from my whole being, but the thing is, I'm still me.  Day-to-day, regardless of the changing circumstances.  And I have to learn to live with that person for who she is and not for what she does.

It is in the silence.  The silence that we each carry, that scares us into filling our life with adventure, stuff, activity, mind-bending, dreams or whatever else.  The silence makes us vulnerable.

Right now, my life is silent.  I have no news to share, only my dreams or past experiences.  Everyone is excited to meet my son, and so am I obviously...but...there is still more to life than the upcoming changes.  No matter how much "a part of me" this whole new life-changing journey will be, I am still faced with the silence between the changing moments of life.  The place where anticipation and wonder want to fill all the space and time with thoughts about tomorrow.

I have been singing and memorizing Psalm 46:  "Cease striving and know that He is God"  otherwise known as "Be still and know that He is God".

[Click here to hear my version of Psalm 46]

It is contrary to every fiber in my human nature, to embrace stillness and silence.  But the funny thing is, after being positioned for so many months in the place of cornering and having my hands tied from "doing" what I want to do....there has been more fulfillment than I could have ever dreamed.

That deep fulfillment has come from deep peace.  That's it.  And it's nothing I really can write home about, because it is redundant and it is entirely my own experience, it's quite un-sharable at times.  One that doesn't come with many words until now.  It has been in the silence that my adventure "needs" have subsided temporarily, and I've encountered a new world of adventure I didn't even think to ask for.

That world looks like this:

"With the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years like one day."

In each passing minute, wondering when contractions may begin...instead of being absorbed with the oncoming changes....I have sought fulfillment from the Lord.  Knowing He knows my son's birthday, He knows the plans He has for us, whether it be motorhome vs apartment, Austin vs Marquette, an income vs none.  Knowing, that if today isn't my son's birthday, then He has another treasure for me in it.  And I don't want to miss that gift by being absorbed with my actions, my doings, my expectations, or my need for tangible adventure.

And as I have been willingly forced into this position of surrendering day after day, life has taken on a new sort of special.  Knowing each day may be the last (of mine) and first (of ours), has caused me to cherish them.  To follow spontaneous urges and acts of worship.  Beautiful things have happened as a result.  Beauty that has come in the form of sharing Jesus's love with a receptive and broken-hearted woman at 6am on the beach, in the form of dancing in my backyard with a 9 month pregnant belly on me, in the form of singing Psalm 46 over and over, in the form of uncontrollable hours of laughter with my husband...all in all...in the form of: peace.

You see, when I refer to silence, I am not always referring to literal quiet and literal stillness where we humm on a mat with our legs crossed and eyes closed, but actually, a position of the heart that is surrendered to The Creator who has all the pieces in His hand, who wants to reveal to us the mystery and beauty from the "just me" in the day-to-day parts.  It is the peace between and within the moments or days or weeks or months of uncertainty and wonder.  It is finding comfort in the vulnerability of the silence.


He is in the silence.

He is adventure.

And that makes the most beautifully fulfilled life that I personally have ever, ever, ever, ever, experienced.

That is what makes one day of peace and "silence of the heart", feel like 1000 years of adventure.

In all honesty,
M