“And they sat with him on the ground seven days and seven nights, and no one spoke a word to him, for they saw that his suffering was very great.”
Job 2:13 ESV
This is completely a spontaneous short blog that I’m crafting from my phone as I’m somewhere in the woods in Indiana with no WiFi. It’s been rather glorious and a tad lonely these first three days away from the familiar and my dearly loved family…but no doubt I’m right where I need and want to be.
I was able to FaceTime with all my amazing children and grandbabies tonight… so my heart overflows once again with the mercy of Jesus to give me so much more than I deserve. I love that there’s no limit to the redemption we all have coming, sooner or later, but most assuredly.
Life on this planet can be so hard. As I prayed with a friend today who is in a deep battle, I struggled to find words. So I just cried. And she cried too. We cried together and the silence became sacred.
It’s rare I wouldn’t have words…I like words…but lately it seems words haven’t been the best solution in some situations. I’m all for encouraging words and I’m fond of receiving them but I’m learning that presence can sometimes be the more powerful. I want to be more aware of when those moments are.
In one of the most painful seasons I’ve yet to experience, words often fell short of the help I needed. Though I knew I couldn’t completely isolate myself, I found rest in solitude and silence. It was in these spaces, God came near…or maybe with the lack of noise, I became aware of His nearness. Whatever the case, God’s presence spoke louder…to learn what it meant to be a daughter who was worthy of pursuit, fiercely loved and protected changed many things for me.
I’m still learning for sure…I’m still creating space to just be…to listen and acknowledge His presence even if I don’t feel it. He’s there…and He desires to be with me..to just hang out…like lovers who need little words but mostly enjoy just being together.
I don’t know if you’ve created sacred space in your life to just be, but it could be the place where silence begins to speak louder and lovelier than any words that could be spoken to you. In seasons and moments of deep suffering, silence can open up our heart to be drawn into deep listening. The Spirit of the Living God knows exactly what we need when others don’t know, as much as they would want to. Or as much as we would want to for others.
Silence is hard and requires trust. It’s letting go of our need to have all the answers and makes room for God to be more important than we are. I wish I could say I’ve got this down, but I can say I’m becoming more aware, and that’s a start. Sometimes words really do get in the way.