I am a talker. During my school years I spent quite a bit of time in the naughty corner for my incessant talking. My third grade teacher accused me of having "diarrhea of the mouth." But my youthful indiscretions as a chatterbox were something I turned into a profession. As a teacher, I essentially talk for a living. Communication is as natural for me as breathing. I can pretty much talk my way into or out of just about anything. I love a good conversation. Weirdly, I even like talking to strangers.
But lately, I don't want to talk. I have nothing to say. It is almost painful to communicate. I spend all day aching to get home to the quiet of my bedroom where I don't have to talk to anyone. I can tell this need for silence troubles my closest friends, but I honestly believe it is a normal stage of my grief. It is comforting and it feels right. Scripture tells me in Romans 10:17 that "...faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ." I can't hear God when I am talking. I need to hear God's voice right now. I ache to hear His voice, and I can only do that when I am silent.
Spring break is only four days away and it can't come too soon. It is my hope that removing myself from “real” life for a week of rest and relaxation at the coast will revitalize me and get me back on track. There is something healing about sand, surf, and sun. I'm looking forward to taking my "prescription."