Thursday Night Quiet

It is time for bed.  The house is dark.  Children are quiet.  Even Facebook is not buzzing on my phone with updates and posts.  For the average person, after 10:00 equates bedtime.

For me, however, Thursday evenings are my favorite time.  I do not work at Weldon tomorrow which means after I drop off my children at school, I actually have a moment of peace.  What I have discovered, through the years, is that during the day, when the sun is up, even though I am technically, “free,” I always find things to do: meet friends for coffee, read a good book, work in my garden, tackle a project for work, etc…

Thursdays have since become my night when I stay up late.  

Real late.  

It’s the one chance in my week to be absolutely still and completely quiet.  I crave Thursday nights.  

With no immediate meetings in the morning, or projects requiring high-functioning brain activity, I can allow myself to have a “foggy” morning.  By Thursday I can feel I have become anxious and restless; I am in desperate need of my time of silence.

At night, when the world is quiet, I can dive into an introspective pool of thoughts and swim deep.  With no one to jolt me out of my quiet, I can float motionless letting my reflections linger a little longer than usual and drift deeper into my contemplative abyss of thought.

I am frustrated that I only have one time in my entire week to experience this abundant and overwhelming quiet and peace.  My Friday’s are always better than my other days.  Is it because it’s Friday?  Or is it because I finally had “rebooting” time?

I have tried so many times to have these quiet moments in the morning to no avail.  My mornings are a rush of activity and thoughts for the day ahead of me.  Even if I try to be quiet, the swirls of activity going on around me make it impossible to completely put my guard down.  At any moment, someone will need me.  Oh, don’t get me wrong, I sit and read my Bible or connect with God in some way, but it is so different in the morning compared to my Thursday nights of quiet. 

In the mornings, I am preparing myself for my day; putting on my armor, so to speak.  At night, my armor is off, my guard down, my day is over and it is just me.  Simply Connie sitting before the throne of God being quiet and still.  No agenda.  No requests.  No prayers.  I am not assembling a list of things to accomplish, or tasks I must fulfill.   I don’t bring theological debates or complicated theories.  It is not a time to think analytically, but instead to let the Holy Spirit breathe life into me.

I love the quiet of night.

The second verse of the Bible (Genesis 1:2) echoes my feelings, “And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep.  And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.”

That word "moved" in the original Hebrew means more accurately, "hovered."  It is dark and I have no structure or reason as to why I come before the Father, only that I know I need the Spirit of God to move upon me; hover over me- to fill up my cup and refresh my spirit. 

Thank you, God, that you look forward to Thursday evenings as much as I do.