Growing up, special times with Grandma included spending the night at her house with my cousin Julie. We’d stay in our Uncle Doug’s old bedroom which had a portable black and white television and a closet full of Grandma’s old clothes. 

Julie and I would play dress up and watch cartoons to our hearts content. Then, in the morning, we’d eat breakfast that included Coco Wheats and homemade cinnamon rolls. Then, it was off to an hour of adoration at the church next door. 

        Quiet Space  

Grandma volunteered an hour each week for perpetual adoration. The church was open 24 hours a day, seven days a week with at least one person from the parish sitting or kneeling in prayer for an hour. When Julie and I spent the night, we accompanied Grandma to her hour of adoration. 

Sitting on a hard wooden pew, in a dimly lit church and attempting to be quiet did not feel normal to me. I’d gaze at the lit candles, the statues of the saints, the light coming in through the stained glass windows and sigh. Then, I’d watch Grandma fingering her Rosary beads, while her lips moved while silently praying. Sometimes, I’d catch her nodding off to sleep, but she assured me that she was only resting her eyes. 

Sitting beside Grandma during her hours of adoration more than likely planted inside of me, the seed for cultivating my own quiet sanctum. 

Making space for quiet does not necessarily mean signing up to sit in a pew in a dimly lit church for an hour once a week. But, finding a quiet space on a regular basis does result in developing an unperturbed, peaceful and restful demeanor. 

There are innumerable events that make us fearful and rob us of our peace. There are countless individuals who tout their pseudo power with the intent to intimidate. Our world, if we allow it, sucks the marrow right out of us. 

But, to hold steady, to maintain an inward peace and an unperturbed spirit in the midst of a chaotic world requires us to tap into an inward strength that is not our own. 

My Grandma was a woman of faith and though she never explained her faith to me, she showed it in such a plain and ordinary way that even as a young kid, I could understand where her confidence came from. 

She did not rely on her money, her health, or her station in life. Rather, she relied on the One who gave her life. 

Grandma’s hour of adoration was a commitment to not only cultivating quiet, but cultivating her relationship with the One from whom all peace, all contentment and all rest came from. 

Why bother cultivating quiet? When we pursue a relationship with quiet, it produces stillness and when we are still, we begin to know the One who created us to be quiet and confident.