Must it always be silence?
Will you never love
through a slow smile
a warm hand
or even a whisper?
Of all the ways in the world
to be with us —
silence??
There are some who remember
your once-and-done grace,
that gift from the beginning
and it is enough for them.
There are those who hold on
to time, loving the hours
sitting waiting staying
in your invisible presence.
For crying out loud:
I’m a word person, God!
How can I grasp you
when you are speechless?
If you are angry: say so.
Heartbroken: roar at us.
On your way out, leaving us to
our own misery: extend the courtesy
of a warning … and then,
if there is still grace to be found,
offer your holy forgetfulness.
But talk to us, please.
I am not really one for
signs and symbols, not moved by
stirring spirituality or dramatic gestures.
But give me a word or else
I am cold and lost.
How long will you be silent?
How long will you hide your face?
How long will our prayers land like bricks?
O that you would sound a syllable!
Just the flick of your tongue, the mere
shaping of a beautiful holy vowel
and stars would trumpet
planets would boom their symphony
light would cascade as a carol
and the ears of our hearts
would be glad at your voice!
Must it always be silence?
on Isaiah 64:7 & 9
Rachel,
I heard your words today and they helped sooth my aching heart! Thank you! My wife Kara and I have lost two parents in two months this year; first, her father, and later my mother. It has only been of recent weeks that we have begun to talk about them and how much we miss their warm smiles and caring hearts. Silence had filled our lives far too long. God’s presence, although known, at times was unreachable and unfelt. But as care givers ourselves do we not claim that God is in the Silence! That silence is also a Divine gift? When we experience loss first hand words can be healing, and sound of any sort awakens the Divine within.
Oh wow, Fred, what a hard year it’s been for you and Kara, and the holidays can be such a difficult season. I’m sorry for your losses. May the Silence be presence & comfort to you both when the silence of absence is still so painfully fresh.
Rachel, thank you for that prayer! The silence of God is one of my constant struggles. I rely on the understanding that coincidence is one of God’s better communication devices, but the problem is that it is so–well–coincidental!!
So coincidental … and still so silent! “Was that you, God? Or wasn’t that you? Just wink and nod if that was you.”
I can remember as a kid wishing that God would communicate through sky-writing. I still have that wish, some days.