We all encounter silence in our lives. Stillness. Emptiness. Moments of soundless agony.
The second after angry words are hurled.
The quiet of sadness that breaks upon us in waves.
The moment we realize we are utterly alone.
The seconds before the hurt child utters a bone breaking wail.
The time when the child should cry, but is still. So still.
In these moments, He can be found. Close as skin, speaking to us in the silence of our pain. Holding us as we scream for mercy from providence, from circumstance.
From death. Unfair death.
He is there. He is faithful, and close to the brokenhearted. Even in our angry demands of "Why?", He sits with us.
When the moment of birth becomes filled with stillness, when the cry doesn't come, when the pain is a breaking of the soul and heart so terrible the angels cry...He is there. In the midst of it all.
And I believe His tears fall with ours. Our pain is His pain. And I also believe he is the mightiest of comforters, the strongest of pillars to lean on.
Somewhere under a wintry Nebraska sky, a baby was born. In silence.
I pray that He is close to those who this breaks upon. That He holds them like the ocean holds the sand. I pray they feel His closeness and His comfort while the stillness of the birth echoes in their world.
