What a Quiet Car Taught Me About My Soul

It had been a rough day. Everything seemed to go wrong. Everything was frustrating. I was exasperated and exhausted. You know the feeling? 

The radio started blasting the minute I turned the key. Shut up, I thought. I can't deal with another cheesy pop song or dumb commercial right now. 

I hit the off button. 

It was silent.

And I drove home.

I heard the way the engine rumbled. I heard the sound of the air rushing by. I heard the crunch of gravel beneath my tires. I felt the rhythm of the wheels spinning, heard the shudder when I hit the gas too quickly. I felt the road go by beneath me, felt the way my car responded, listened to its reactions and responses.

I so often miss all of that. The noise is loud and it distracts me and I forget what's really going on underneath it all.

That day, in that quiet of my car, I realized I've been drowning out my own soul.

I haven't been listening to the way it reacts when a hurdle comes. I haven't been paying attention to how it feels as I charge along through day after day. I haven't noticed the quiet whispers, the stirring desires, the quaking fears, the shaky doubts.

I haven't been paying attention.

There, in that silence, I could finally hear my spirit speak.

I'm trying to pay more attention now.

I'm trying to build better rhythms that create space for silence, for stillness, for solitude, for selah, for sabbath.

I want to feel the shudder when I try to move forward too quickly, and I want that to remind me to slow down, go steady.

I want to feel the rumble when I rush along, and I want that to remind me to stop, be still, pay attention.

I want to feel the wind blow my hair back, and I want it to remind me of new life, fresh possibility, of the Spirit who is with me and leading me along.

I want to keep my eyes open, keep my heart open, keep my soul open. I want to notice when I'm growing weary so I can give myself time to rest. I want to notice when I'm stretching myself too thin so I can step back and find relief. I want to notice when I'm exasperated and exhausted so I can give myself grace, so I can choose joy instead, so I can intentionally change my attitude to one of hope and optimism. I want to notice when things aren't feeling right, aren't looking right, aren't sounding right, so I can adjust accordingly.

I want to be in tune with my soul.

I want to step out of the frustrations and the funks and step forward in faith toward my Father.

I want to live with intention, with eyes focused on Him, surrendered and open to His will.

I want to live like this:

Don’t shuffle along, eyes to the ground, absorbed with the things right in front of you. Look up, and be alert to what is going on around Christ- that’s where the action is. See things from his perspective.
— Colossians 3:2-3, MSG

For now, it's going to look like a quiet car prompting me to notice the sounds of my own internal engine, the rumbling reminding me to always be alert.

Rachel Dawson