Silence

Today is a harder day. Since I last wrote, not much has happened, except that I got sick...again. Not nearly as bad as before, but enough to bring so much discouragement. I thought since I was healthier now that my immune system was rock-solid and yet here I am, in bed, recovering from a nasty cold.

It's so easy to regress to old thoughts, to let discouragement seep in, no matter how much Goodness we see from God. As I layed in bed, unable to exercise, and craving carbs more than ever, I felt so lost. Why was I back here again? Why can't I just be healthy?

I didn't hear any response to my questioning. Just silence.

silence.

To compound matters, I had multiple medical tests/procedures today to evaluate my recovery from the pneumonia and to check on my diabetes.

One of the tests was a pregnancy test. Just routine. Before my x-ray. I knew I wasn't pregnant, but the tech insisted so there I was, back again on the road of discouragement, the road of no.

Have you ever felt you have been walking the road of "no" for a prolonged period?

At some point, it feels familiar, you no longer expect anything else. It's marked by disappointment, by discouragement and often:

by silence.

And as the tech confirmed my negative pregnancy test, the silence became so deafening. My feet dug in just a little deeper to the ground of no. Well-acquainted by now after 2.5 years.

silence.

What is the purpose of God's silence in our lives?

Is silence just the absence of words or answers or is it actually something more?

As I ponder this question, the image I get is of a beautiful red robe, a velvet garment, thick, warm, robust, filling an empty room. Taking up all of the room.

Perhaps this is silence: the filling up of the room of emptiness with His robe: God's presence. Not His words, or gifts, or direction. Not prophecy, not scripture, not strategy. Just Him.

Silence = Presence

Perhaps in this season of silence, all I'm really supposed to do is allow His robe to fill my room. Allow His presence to fill every gap in my heart, cover over every question, draw near to every disappointment, not necessarily to heal it or address it, at least not yet.

Is His presence alone enough for me?

N.,

I do not yet know when you will come and who exactly you will be, if you ever come. Waiting for you has thrust me into a season of deep silence and sometimes it's deafening. But I hang on to His robe in the midst of it. As I walk the road of no, may your ability to hear God's no in your own life grow resilient and robust. May you know always how to accept the Divine No for the Greater, more Good Yes, no matter how long it takes. As I walk my road of no, may it somehow instill in you a sincere patience, a reverence for God's no and a capacity to know this...that even in the midst of silence:

His presence alone is always enough.