A letter from our friend Miles about faith, humility, and learning when to speak—and when to be still.
A Letter from Miles
Hey man. YOU rock! What is this thing? It’s awesome!
Maybe that’s the difference between addiction and devotion. One consumes us while leaving us empty. The other invites us to be filled. And perhaps contentment doesn’t mean the end of longing. Perhaps it means finding the right thing to long for.
I love that line.
And this is hilarious, and so sadly true: I’ve spent plenty of years following politics, arguing about politics, and believing that the next election might finally straighten everything out.
God, I’ve spent so much time trying to get someone else to change their mind and believe just like me. What a joke. How arrogant of me to put so much trust in my opinions. Exactly like the blind leaders of the blind Jesus railed against.
My friend Denise shared in a meeting about responsibility: “With awareness comes responsibility.” I asked her about it afterwards, having had some strong conversations in recent history with other friends about the importance of warning others about the cliff they’re about to fall off of.
Her response was pretty poignant, hitting close to home. She said, “Yeah, I was talking more about the responsibility to change yourself.” Piercing.
I get a thought, an awareness, hear a message, and instantly think of all the people I know who struggle with this issue, who ought to be hearing this right now. I share with them, or tell them, with good intentions, but boy am I guilty of worrying about the speck in my brother’s eye while I have a beam in my own eye.
Not a hypocrite—just a poor prioritizer.
I’m working on myself, too, but also spending so much time convincing others of how they should think or act or be that sometimes I shortchange my own healing process.
The other day, God reprimanded me about that. I heard that sometimes, some of my thoughts need to stay in my head. Some of my thoughts are for my own private use only, or at least for a time.
Like a seed that is germinating. Uncovering it disrupts its maturing and developing process in me. And how it does!
I’ve been trying to remember to practice the pause. The whole: Does this need to be said? Does it need to be said right now? Does it need to be said by me?
I truly enjoyed the Early Risers meeting the other day. One of the most beautiful parts of it was the long pause between the opening of the meeting and the first share, as well as the silences between shares. The absence of someone just jumping up and filling up the space with noise.
And if I love the silence so much, maybe I could also help build it.
That’s my current lesson: how to be true to myself, helpful to others, and not egotistical, but patient about when to share, advise, and butt in.
“Be still, and know that I am God.”
Psalm 46:10 (KJV)
