Pockets of Quiet
Susan Yates
 January 15
I have an old, faded blue, quilted jacket that has huge pockets. Somehow, just because they are big they always seem to be full of “stuff.” From balled up post-its to receipts to M&M wrappers and a stray pen or two. It’s just a place to stuff things that I don’t have time to deal with. When it gets too full I clean it out.
Sometimes my life gets too full. Because we live in the Washington D.C. area we have lots of visitors. But it’s not just our location, it’s who we are. We have big families; we have a lot going on; and basically we are “people” people. But sometimes I get tired. My life seems too packed. I get what I call “peopled––out.” I long to empty my life, to be alone and to have some space. I long for quiet.
Today was one of those days. So I ran away to some woods and took a hike all by myself. There was a freezing, misty rain which coated the naked branches painting a glaze all about me. The only noise was the crunch of my feet on leaves crusted with ice. When I stood still, I drank in the silence and the wet mist. It felt like a blanket of peace wrapping its arms around me.
In the quiet of God’s creation I feel His presence. When I empty my life of all the “stuff” for a little while and drink in the awe of His nature I am restored. And I too know why Jesus took time to go to quiet places and be alone with the Father.
Every now and then, my life, like my jacket pockets, needs to be emptied. | 
