inside, it’s still.

John Wyatt

Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.

Psalm 23:4

I’m a huge extrovert.

I love being around people, and you might assume that I hate being alone. But the truth is, I love it.

There’s something about silence that brings me peace. When I dial down the noise of the world, God’s voice seems louder.

As an extrovert, it’s tempting to fill every spare moment with social interaction, but even I have to admit, it can get overwhelming.

As a musician, I know that music isn’t just about sound; it’s about dynamics. The tension and release, the contrast between loud and soft, is what makes music powerful. Without quiet moments, the music loses meaning.

Life can feel the same way. The world is getting louder, and our lives are only getting busier. If the noise of life is like a big, dramatic bridge in a song, then silence and solitude is the quiet chorus at the end, the moment of rest and resolution.

Psalm 23 describes walking through a valley of darkness and fear, yet being unafraid because God is with us. That tells me:

peace isn’t necessarily found by escaping the noise,

but by learning to find God within it.

It’s like putting on noise-canceling headphones in a crowded place—everything around you might be loud, but inside, it’s still.

For me, walking is the easiest way to practice silence and solitude. When I take my dog out alone, I begin by praying, Come, Holy Spirit, meet with me as I walk. Sometimes, God speaks—maybe through a verse or a thought to pray about. Other times, I simply return home feeling lighter, as if the whirring cogs in my mind have slowed down.

If the noise of life is getting too loud, like a dramatic bridge in a song building tension calling out for a quiet chorus, I want to encourage you today to give silence and solitude a go.