THE BREAD BASKET;

Silence can be difficult. I know. Several years ago as Evy and I leisurely ambled around Newtown, a very historic town just north of Philadelphia, we came upon a quaint Friend's meetinghouse. The next day was Sunday, and since we were in town for the weekend, we decided to take in the service. Eleven o'clock the following morning found us seated among Quakers. How unusual, we thought, to have no singing, no reading of Scripture, no public prayers. Just silence, until the Spirit moved and someone stood to give a brief testimony.

More silence. Then someone else stood, sharing her heart. More silence, followed by a youth who shared his experience of "inner light." After dismissal, I overheard two Friends talking. Said the one man to the other, "Wasn't that a great service?" The other nodded enthusiastically in agreement.

That wasn't my experience, however. I found the long periods of silence to be uncomfortable and awkward. But I know that was purely my problem. As one who is goal oriented and task driven—as one whose day is bent on making every minute count, I must confess that hushed periods of silence don't come easy. I suspect I have company. I know the Scriptural admonitions: "In quietness. . . is your strength" (Isaiah 30:15); "Be still, and know that I am God" (Psalm 46:10); "The Lord is in his holy temple; let all the earth be silent before him" (Habakkuk 2:20). But having head knowledge of such verses, and actual practice, I discover, are two very different things.

And so, as I go along in my Christian walk, I'm resolved to create "mini-Sabbaths"—times of quietness and reflection, both personally and as I lead in public worship. After all, the angels are into silence. The heavenly worship disclosed for us in Revelation 8:1 includes a mysterious half hour of silence! When President Abraham Lincoln delivered his famed Gettysburg Address, he felt it wasn't effective because there was hardly any applause when he sat down. But most historians agree that the President's battlefield audience was so moved, that their greatest tribute was silence. May you and I also be awed into silence by the knowledge and experience of the Holy One!