undefined undefined Healing Silence
1980
Healing Silence
July 1980


“Healing Silence,” Ensign, July 1980, 68

Healing Silence

It was early spring, and rain had pelted our area for weeks. Each morning as I looked at the darkened clouds, my spirits dipped lower.

One day, to escape a depression that was engulfing me, I decided to drive out to our farm to see just how serious the rain situation was. I parked my car at the gate, slipped on an old pair of boots, and started the climb up the mountain that borders the farm. At the top I sat down on a rock and watched the heavy clouds push their way across the valley.

Suddenly I was aware of the absolute, uninterrupted silence around me. No people, no roaring cars, no jangling phones. I noticed tiny heads of the season’s first flowers, the lushness of the grass, and the clustered tree buds just beginning to burst open. A robin landed on a nearby post and began to sing.

As I watched the robin, the low-hanging clouds above me broke apart. There, spanning the valley, appeared the most beautiful rainbow I had ever seen. Perhaps it was the silence, perhaps it was the unexpected rainbow. But my Heavenly Father seemed so close that I felt if I just reached upward, I would surely touch Him.

As I walked down the mountainside I had a renewed faith that all things work out for our own good; the rain-sodden fields no longer seemed such a threat. I had recognized God’s hand in the creation of this world, and I knew all was well. Aney B. Chatterton, Soda Springs, Idaho