Quiet Place, Holy Place

A quiet, reverent place

I would venture to say that most people in America have lost a proper concept of holiness because everything in life has become the same. There is nothing set apart, but we constantly seek out gratification of some sort. We are surrounded by music and talking and all sorts of things that in the end are tantamount to pure noise. None of these things may be individually bad—it’s just that we have not given place for the absence of them. We’ve become dependent on noise.

Something I’ve discovered is that when I carve out space for silence and quiet, many things in my life that were causing me stress and confusion melt away in stunning clarity and I’m left with a deep sense of reverence in my spirit. Quietness offers us rest from everything else in the day and instills a sense of holiness, a quality of being set apart. In the midst of my busiest schedule, quietness beckons to me like a cup of cold water in a scorching desert. Quietness puts the trivial concerns of my day in a more beneficial perspective: that though they are intense, they will soon be gone and I will long outlive the concerns of today. This perspective produces in me holiness because I begin to make choices based on the long term and not the short term, and as a result the short term becomes subdued to the long term. This leads me to a flourishing, abundant life because I’m not living for short-term profit but for long-term gain and for those around me to prosper as well as myself. You see, holiness teaches me that I will get to wherever I’m going in time, and I don’t need to rush to get there. It encourages me to seek to meet others needs because I realize that my immediate concerns are very rarely needs, but desires. Desires are not bad, but they are better fulfilled in a long-term pursuit rather than a short-term gain/consume/discard cycle. Besides, isn’t my greatest need to be in relationship with others anyway?

Seek out a quiet place, a holy place. You’ll find the peace of God resting on your soul like never before.


I had a thought this morning: what if everywhere I went held a special meaning to me because I had memories of God’s presence there? What if I made it a point to acknowledge Jesus’ presence with me in every place that I set foot? What if I could look back on my activities throughout the day and remember each moment fondly because I experienced God everywhere I went? The fullness of His presence is the ultimate gift, and memories are the ultimate memorial. I think I understand partly what he means when the psalmist cries out in Psalm 103:2, “Bless the LORD, O my soul, And forget none of His benefits.” (NASB)

All day today, I’ve had the words of a song playing through my head, “What does it sound like when you sing heaven’s song? What does it feel like when heaven comes down? What does it look like when God is all around? Let it come.” I feel my heart consumed with longing to realize each moment as an opportunity to acknowledge that Jesus is with me and thereby redeem the time. There will come a day when we get to enjoy God’s manifest presence without ceasing night and day—I want that to begin today. I can enjoy His presence right here and now to the degree that I set my love on Him. The only reason that I am not constantly overwhelmed by His love may be due to the fact that I am not completely consistent at setting my mind on things above and not on things on the earth.

What does it feel like when heaven comes down?