Now it came to pass, as they went, that he entered into a certain village: and a certain woman named Martha received him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, which also sat at Jesus’ feet, and heard his word. But Martha was cumbered about much serving, and came to him, and said, Lord, dost thou not care that my sister hath left me to serve alone? bid her therefore that she help me. (Luke 10:38-40, KSV)

Noise wears us; silence feeds us. To run upon the Master’s errands is always well, but to sit at the Master’s feet is quite as necessary; for like the angels that excel in strength, our power to do His commandments arises out of our hearkening to voice of His Word. If even for a human controversy quiet thought is a fit preparation, how much more is it needful in solemn pleadings with the Eternal One? Now let the deep springs be unsealed; let the solemnities of eternity exercise their power while all is still within us.

But how happens it that such silence renews our strength? It does so, first, by giving space for the strengthening Word to come into the soul and for the energy of the Holy Spirit to be really felt. Words, words, words; we have so many words, and they are but chaff, but where is the Word that in the beginning was God and was with God? That Word is the living and incorruptible seed: “What is the chaff to the wheat? saith the Lord” (Jeremiah 23:28, KJV). We want less of the words of man and more of Him Who is the very Word of God. Be quiet, be quiet, and let Jesus speak. (Charles Spurgeon, At the Master’s Feet, March 21)