There are times when reading more and learning more and digesting more will not help…more.
There are times when searching leaves you silent.
And then what?
Silence feels wrong.
Silence can feel like the machine has stopped working, the flip got switched off, and it’s just us in the room.
Silence when we’re searching can feel wrong.
We’re supposed to be digging ourselves out and finding the answer.
Because it’s up to us. It’s up to you. It’s up to me.
We’re the last line.
We’re the final answer.
So the silence feels like we’re failing. Failure. That breaks the silence.
When you and I stop – that can be the echoing chorus.
Why is that? Why is it that every time you stop you hear that refrain?
And maybe we need to remember that we’re supposed to pray these things.
Maybe we’ve forgotten that this is how the world works.
We’re small and frail and dust.
We’re flesh on feeble bone.
And in the silence we stare at that truth.
But before we slip back into the doing, let’s consider who stares back in the silence.
Him. It’s Him. Him with hands that are anything but frail.
Him with eyes that saw the earths 1st birthday and your first sleep.
Him with arms outstretched.
In the silence, I think, maybe, we meet Him.