Get to know me and you learn that I have much to say. It’s not so much that I talk a lot as it is that I talk densely. Whatever I say just happens to be expansive. (Ok, so maybe I talk a lot too.) But lately I find myself growing quieter and quieter by the day, and it’s not because I have less to say. In fact, my thoughts become more and more complicated by the day, but the desire and need to vocalize them is dissipating. Instead of wanting to project outward for the world to hear me, I’d rather project upward toward the heavens. Simply put, my spirit has grown quieter. St. Peter speaks of quietness of spirit in his first epistle:

“Do not let your adornment be merely outward—arranging the hair, wearing gold, or putting on fine apparel— rather let it be the hidden person of the heart, with the incorruptible beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is very precious in the sight of God.”

It is in reading over those two verses that I can pinpoint what I often viewed as a strength but now appears to be more of a flaw–my ever moving mouth, spouting big words and theories of this and that was and is a mere outward adornment. “Here! Look at me! Look at what I know and what I’ve learned! Look at my big brain!” is really what my rambling mouth says to the world. My version of spending hours upon hours on my hair and makeup.

Where is the humility in that?

I worried when I found myself growing quieter thinking that perhaps I was losing my sharpness, but now I see it for what it is–pure grace from heaven.