Silence & Solitude Pt. 2
Silence and solitude can offer a path towards healing and a deeper connection with God, mirroring Jesus' own practice of withdrawing to quiet places for reflection and renewal.
Dear Underdogs,
I understand many of you are going through incredibly difficult times, and my heart goes out to anyone carrying such heavy pain. Our team at Speak Out, including volunteers, mental health advocates, psychologists, pastors, coaches, and staff, have so many stories of pain and trauma, which is why we are so passionate about breaking the stigma and doing what we do. You are not alone in being here, doing the hard work of healing, because we are here too, still on our own healing journeys, and allowing God to break through the darkness, one day at a time.
This week’s practice is about silence. Not just the absence of noise, but about finding a quiet space within yourself, where you can connect with God's peace, even when everything around you (and inside you) feels chaotic. I know that trauma can make our minds and hearts feel like a battlefield, but I truly believe that in those moments of stillness, we can find a refuge in Him. This isn't about pretending the pain isn't there, but about creating space to hear that still, small voice that can speak healing and hope into our deepest wounds. I'm praying this helps you find a little bit of that silence, that shalom, in the middle of the storm.
—Sarah
The Gift of Silence
Trauma often fills our lives with noise—the echoes of painful memories, the clamor of anxiety, the loud voices of self-doubt. Silence, in this context, is not merely the absence of sound, but a deliberate choice to quiet the internal and external chaos. It is an invitation to create space for God's still, small voice to be heard. Psalm 46:10 says, "Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth."
Jesus often withdrew to quiet places to meet with the Father. We see many times throughout scripture that he would retreat whenever he was feeling a range of emotions and needed rest— exhaustion, sadness, sorrow, dread, anxiety about the future. He shows us that emotions, both positive or negative, are safe with God, and are even ways to connect with Him. Often times in our culture, even in faith communities, we do our best to hide our messiest emotions. We feel we must show up polished, with smiles plastered across our faces, so as not to let on that we might be struggling. Showing up with the hint of grief, anger, or anxiety might make people think something is wrong with us, or maybe it would just make others uncomfortable, so often times we mask it. Or maybe we just dip out on public events altogether so we don’t have to pretend.
When you’re healing from trauma, this is actually where the value of silence and solitude come in. You can go to those quiet places, and be your most authentic self, bringing every raw emotion to the feet of Jesus, because he understands.
Reflect & Journal
THE NATURE OF NOISE
What are the "noises" in your life that stem from your trauma (e.g., flashbacks, nightmares, panic attacks, self-criticism)?
Consider the different forms this "noise" takes. Is it a constant barrage, or does it come in waves?
How does it affect your body (e.g., increased heart rate, muscle tension)?
GOD’S PEACE
How does this “noise” prevent you from experiencing God's peace?
Explore what "God's peace" means to you. Is it a feeling of calm, a sense of safety, or something else?
How have you experienced God’s peace in the past, and how is that different from your current experience?
BEING STILL
Psalm 46:10 is not a suggestion, but a command. What does it mean to "be still"? Does it mean to stop all activity? Or does it mean to quiet your inner being?
Delve deeper into the concept of stillness. In Eastern contemplative traditions, stillness involves practices like meditation, where the goal is to observe thoughts without attachment. How might this inform a Christian understanding of stillness? How does this relate to concepts like "centering prayer" or "resting in the Spirit"?
SILENCE AS FAITH
In what ways can practicing silence be an act of faith, trusting that God is in your midst, moving on your behalf, even when your inner world feels out of control?
When we are used to problem-solving and taking action, silence can feel unproductive. How can we reframe silence as an active expression of trust, rather than passive resignation?
Consider times when you have had to wait on God in the past. How did silence play a role in those experiences?
Practice
Find a quiet place where you can be alone. If you are at Underdogs Club, find a comfortable, quiet spot in the room. If you are doing this practice on your own time, it could be a room in your house, a garden, or a peaceful spot in nature.
Take a moment to eliminate any distractions, like silencing your phone, closing any doors to outside noise, etc.. If it would be helpful, bring in any calming sensory elements (e.g. soft lighting, your favorite essential oil, holding a comfort possession, wrapping yourself in a blanket, etc.) and then settle in.
Begin with a simple breathing exercise. Take slow, deep breaths, focusing on the sensation of the air entering and leaving your body.
As you breathe, acknowledge the "noises" within you. Don't try to suppress them, but simply observe them without judgment.
Repeat a short phrase or prayer, such as "God, be still my soul," or "Your peace surpasses all understanding."
Allow any emotions to rise to the surface without judgment. Express them in whatever way feels like release to you, offering them over to God.
Sit in silence for 5-10 minutes. If your mind wanders, gently redirect your attention back to your breath or your chosen phrase.
When you are finished, journal about your experience. What did you notice? How did you feel?
Prayer
Father,
I come before you seeking the stillness that only you can provide. My heart is often filled with the noise of trauma, making it difficult to hear your voice. I ask for your grace to quiet the chaos within me. Help me to trust in your presence and your power, even when I feel overwhelmed. Teach me to practice the discipline of silence, not as an escape, but as a way to draw closer to you. May your peace, which transcends all understanding, guard my heart and mind.
Amen.