Friday, April 16, 2010

On Day of Silence

a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace. 
Ecclesiastes 3:6-8
Last year.



"I live as I must, in silence and in honesty."

"but there were months of silence, of this knotting fear of uncertainty, of condemnation, of paralyzing terror that I had no power to overcome on my own.  I don’t think I can even begin to describe the silence, the overwhelming disguise of my old self covering up that which was developing in my life."

"prayer has always just seemed like talking to yourself. Just a glorified way to reaffirm what’s already in your mind by repeating it to some deity. Or a way to become thoroughly discouraged when whatever higher power you choose to address your pleas toward is wholly indifferent and unresponsive and silent. "

"I won’t talk to God anymore. I refuse. I can’t handle the fact that he would allow me to go through the most difficult and confusing part of my life, when I was searching for answers anywhere I could turn, when I still believed that he cared about me, and leave me in utter silence. How can a God of love be so heartless? I just don’t understand why he would speak to all of these people, the givers of their testimonies, in their hours of need, but leave me alone to break and crack and splinter into desperation. Why would he show such favoritism? Why does he only speak to some? Why [deep breath here to try and remain calm] are only some called to be spoken to? "

"I am a liar and a corrupter. Leading others to condemnation along with myself; dragging them down trying to slow my silent slip into the flames.
Don’t let him be there. Please, God, if you can grant me one thing in my life, may it be that he’s not in hell.
Please, God.
Won’t you answer me, even now? Just one word. Just a breath.
Why are you always silent?"


Megan naps on Holly's bed.  We are quiet together.  The world is louder than normal, while landscapers mow lawns and trim edges; motor noise screaming in through the open window.  The one time I actually had the answer to a question in Mythology, I sat staring at my notes, unable to voice it.
I feel ineffective.  My silence is too close to the norm.  I'm silent every day for this cause, not out of protest, not that anyone notices, but because I don't have a voice strong enough to overpower the fear that keeps me mute.  Endless situations play themselves before my eyes.  It's people I respect telling me I'm wrong.  It's members of my family casting judgment.  It's putting my opinion out there and finding that I stand completely alone.  It's believing something so wholeheartedly and not having the words to justify why or the experience to prove how.


Thirty people.  It is enough.

Feet washing.  Be silent no more.  And embrace passed around the still circle.  Unknown but united.  No condemnation, I swear.  But why aren't there more people here?

What silences you?

Hugs from friends and from strangers.  God's love for you endures forever.

Trying to bring together these two worlds that don't mix.

I love you.  But I am discouraged.

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