“And the LORD will guide you continually and satisfy your desire in scorched places and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters do not fail.” Isaiah 58:11

Mom life. I spent all night caring for my sick husband. Cleaning up vomit out of corners of the bedroom and bathroom that I never thought I’d scrub. It was the type of 2am where I found myself on the ground with a bottle of Clorox contemplating just how quickly life changed.

I wasn’t necessarily sleep-ready. I’m typically up at 2am feeding or diaper changing, anyway. In fact, it was a matter of time before I tried to simultaneously manage bathroom scrubbing and breastfeeding.

The silence changed at precisely 2:03am with Summer’s cries. Then the fire alarm battery died and with it an ear-piercing tone filled the air. Then my husband began groaning and off to the toilet he went for more vomiting. And here came Baylor, barreling down the hall.

Noise fills the gaps of my life now in ways I never imagined it could. Just when I settle in to write or pray or read or sleep, something or someone breaks the silence. And this is life with just one child, one dog, a husband, and a small townhome. It is sure only grow louder with time.

So I’ve learned that finding quiet is a discipline. A discipline that protects the core of my surviving and thriving.

Recently, I took a marital high road – after we lugged the diaper bag, baby, purse, car seat, toys, and ourselves into the restaurant, I agreed to retrieve a forgotten item from the car. The walk there felt serene. I mean truly tranquil. The feeling I experienced was matched only by a world-class spa experience.

I realized on this walk that finding silence was like a quest for gold. A gift so rare, so beautiful, and invaluable. I breathed in deep and swallowed the moment whole. I felt my heart, mind, and body reset. I was suddenly prepared to conquer dining out with an energetic, strong-willed baby like never before.

I decided that I would hunt for these moments from here on out and embrace them with a big hug. Even if they were fleeting – I would enjoy every second of them with a grateful heart, and allow my mind and body to be restored in the gift of silence.

Since this parking lot experience, I practice this discipline of silence by turning off the music and television. After Summer goes down for a nap, I let the dog out on the patio, turn off the music, and soak in the stillness. On car rides, I turn off the radio. On jogs, I take out my headphones.

And I hold no expectation for the duration of this gift. Or the voice of God in it. I simply relish the fact that I get to experience the gift of quiet, even if only for a second while rocking my baby or taking the trash out.

Because something as rare, precious, and life-giving as quiet is a gift from God to mommies everywhere. And He loves to meet us in those moments and press our reset buttons.

“The LORD will fight for you while you keep silent.” Exodus 14:14