Just a few weeks ago I was writing about sacred stops, the need for quietness of soul and the blessing of a restful summer, but in a matter of weeks, I found myself stressed, burdened, noise blaring in my ears.

Life happened. Husband went back to work, the mornings I had to myself were gone, I stayed up late, the kids woke up early. It seemed to come out of nowhere, the same old feelings of hopelessness and despair, but the truth is it grew in soil fertilised by worry, media, frenzied living. These things are my “noise.”

Noise looks different for everyone. Yours might be literal: Television, cars, music, too many people talking. For me it is often the noise that isn’t making a sound: Words on a screen, thought patterns in my mind, how I use my time.

Two nights ago I went to sleep desperate for a quiet mind, a still soul, and I prayed, God, wake me up at 4am tomorrow. It’s the only way I can get even a tiny amount of time to myself. I woke at 3:40am to the sound of my two sons talking to each other. Big Boy woke up to use the potty, and Little Bear woke up in the process. By the time I helped one with the toilet and put them both back to sleep, I looked at the time: 3:58am.

So there was my answer. I made my way downstairs, and into the arms of our IKEA love seat, the pages of my journal, and the words came out. I’m tired. I’m anxious. I’m stressed. 

It doesn’t matter what the words are. It matters that they come out. That we see ourselves for who we are. That we regard our condition. That we don’t lie to ourselves, to the people in our lives. I poured my heart out to God, I read the Bible, I swished coconut oil around in my mouth. These are the ways I tell myself, I love you, I care about you, you matter. The kids were still asleep at 6am, so I kept going. I made breakfast, unloaded the dishwasher, and then in an act of extreme faith, I took a shower. I washed my hair, changed my clothes and I even dried my hair. I’m not kidding when I say that it’s the first time since our second son was born that I washed and dried my hair on a weekday.

Finally around 7am, Little Bear woke up (formerly known as our Baby). I had three blissful hours of quiet, and it was a gift to my soul. It did not come in the package of three days in a hotel. I had to fight for it. But it was sweet. And necessary.

There’s a lot of noise in the world, friends. What’s yours? How is it making day-to-day life unbearable? Isn’t it time you made it stop? 

I’m trying to keep the computer off, less time on my phone, less time social media gazing, less time running from here to there. More time encouraging. More time creating. More time playing. More time here, where I am, soaking up my now.

I suspect it might involve more wake ups at 4am.

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