[adapted from What You Take to Heaven]
When we die, we know we will still have
vision, hearing, and rationality.
We will still have identity.
We certainly maintain awareness. This is said over and again: that in fact the powers of the mind are more acute than anything we have known.
"When you die," said one who did, "you are more alive than ever."
You are more aware.
The perceptions are acute beyond what we know as "sharp" senses.
We take quiet with us.
We take what we gained in silence.
Silence takes discipline. When there are problems, it's a great temptation to talk about them on and on in circles, without end. We spin our wheels. We fret out loud. We waste time that could be spent in prayer handling the circumstance. We hash, rehash, and hash again, when we could be meditating silently. When we look to Christ, we see how, in the quiet of a desert, He was able to handle the most powerful, direct temptations (and diversions) from Satan.
The same is true for us: When we are quiet we are clear of spirit and when we have clarity we can see the guises of darkness. "For thus says the Lord God, the holy one of Israel, 'By waiting and by calm you shall be saved, in quiet and in trust, your strength lies'" (Isaiah 30:15). Jesus said it: that worrying can serve the negative. Perhaps that's because besides being a lack of faith, and wasting valuable time, besides burning a hole in our emotions, and running down the body, worry sends forth an emotional energy -- a spiritual dynamic -- that feeds the enemy.
Antagonistic spirits wait for the energy of anxiety, fright, and anger (and as I have said, try to cause it to begin with).
Talking about a negative can spark a flame
and then pour fuel on it. "See how great a forest is set aflame by such
a small fire!" says James 3:5-6. "And the tongue is a fire,
the very world of iniquity; the tongue is set among our members as that
which defiles the entire body, and sets on fire the course of our life,
and is set on fire by hell." Silence is a golden rule. This has been
true from "silent night" to the silence at Calvary (a silence so
powerful that it caused a quake, shaking the Temple). Actions speak
louder than words (many arguments are won by simply keeping our mouths
closed) and silence weakens the devil, who by nature is loud and likes
distractions; he likes to hide behind clamor. He is in the first shout
(and the first accusation). He is blaring rock music. He is a
chatterbox. He is always speaking, always sending thoughts: he is always
sending us a ticker-tape of worry: he is always sending worst-case
scenarios, which are banished only when we take time out, banished
because silence leads to sanctity.
Silence bequeaths power. Silence heals. Silence unites. Silence has mercy. Silence prays for others. Silence does not luxuriate over the bad news of others. Silence prepares us for the afterlife. It is humble, which is also why the devil flees it; it is where we hear the "still, small Voice." (How many of us hear the Voice of God while we're talking?) There are times to correct. There are times to speak out. Never should this be, however, with "angry indifference." That's when we get mad about something but then do nothing about it. Pride is loud; humility is understated. Silence certainly doesn't gossip. When you're worried about something -- maybe even darkly depressed (perhaps in a panic) -- pray for others and you will see your worry diminish. Silence answers many questions. It solves crises. When we are silent, our thoughts and emotions gather into a cogent pattern that lets us better face whatever good challenge the Lord has sent by which we can should find growth (instead of trauma). Never hover around tragedy.
In the beginning was silence; the Creator can be found there, creating new worlds for us.
Thoughts and emotions -- and the lessons of life -- will be there with us; so will our secret selves, when we spend the first moment of eternity alone with Him.
[resources: What You Take to Heaven, Imagine Heaven, After Life, and The Other Side]
