The Beauty of Chaos vs. Silence written by Sarah Bolt
This summer, I had the opportunity to not only lead the charge through the chaos of Vacation Bible School, but also to serve on the camp staff at Camp Hardtner during the Jr. High 2 session. By the time I left camp, I needed some quiet.
As I headed into the silence of an upcoming retreat, I found myself in awe of the counselors at Camp Hardtner. All summer long, they showed up with energy and heart, creating safe, sacred space for campers to feel comfortable in their ownskin during one of the most awkward seasons of life. Their work, like VBS, wasfull of a special kind of exhaustion. But it was just that, special. A kind of beautiful chaos.
Chaos bursts with life. It’s movement, noise, and unpredictability. It can be overwhelming,even terrifying, but there’s beauty in its honesty. Chaos demands our attention. It invites participation. It reveals a raw truth. It is the sacred disruption that stirs the soul awake.
And then there’s silence. Silence holds space. It is the pause between notes that gives music its meaning. It’s the hush of snowfall, the stillness of dawn, the quiet in a chapel when words run dry. Silence doesn’t demand, it invites. It gives us room to breathe, to reflect, to hear what often goes unheard. In silence,we are not producing, but becoming. It shelters peace, grief, presence,and prayer. It can feel uncomfortable at first, but it is profoundly healing.
Both chaos and silence are beautiful because they speak to different kinds of truth.Chaos reflects the wild, untamed energy of creation. Silence reflects the deep,centered presence of the Creator.
I really appreciate the beauty of silence. There’s something sacred about sitting in stillness, surrounded by nature, and letting the peace of God’s creation washover me without disruption. In those quiet moments, I feel deeply connected to God, in the rustle of leaves, the warmth of the sun, the rhythm of my own breath.
But God’s creation isn’t limited to forests, lakes, or quiet trails. I see it everyday in the joyful chaos of my work, in the laughter of children at Vacation Bible School, in their curiosity during Sunday morning lessons, in their wonder, questions, and energy. These moments may not be silent, but they are noless holy.
Godspeaks through the silence and the noise, in the stillness of a quietmorning and in the exuberance of a child’s voice. Both are gifts. Both aresacred spaces where we encounter the living God.
We areall in different seasons of life, some noisy, some quiet, some full of motion,others full of stillness. And yet, week after week, we gather in the same spacefor worship. We bring different expectations, needs, and emotions to the sameliturgy, but that’s the beauty of it. The prayers, the scripture, thesacraments, they meet us right where we are.
Theliturgy holds space for all of us, whether we arrive full of questions orpeace, exhaustion or energy. It welcomes both chaos and silence. It is thecommon ground where our many seasons meet, and where God shows up for each ofus.