Prompt: Where is your quiet place? What does it look like? What happens there?
I sometimes find myself in Catholic churches before the other worshipers arrive. This is my quiet place. When there are people in a church, the air vibrates with the intensity of prayer and the energy generated by so many devotional hearts beating. There is no quiet during the Mass; paper rattles, clothing rustles, and children forget to use their inside voices. My mind usually begins darting from noise to noise in an effort to identify them all, and the entire service is over before I realize it.
The second I step over the threshold, I am cocooned in the silence. I calmly sit in a pew near the back, close my eyes and pull the tranquil air into my lungs. There is no hurrying to "get things done". There is no "have to". The stillness is a cat curled around itself, dreaming of simple pleasures, but I am no mouse to be devoured. I breathe in and out as the tension in my shoulders eases and my mind halts the constant hamster wheel race. Sometimes I pray. Sometimes I think. In this quiet place, I can just be.
Be still, and know that I am God.