In the Silence

No words came this week. Not because I didn’t ask the Lord for them, because I did. It just wasn’t happening. The ticker tape of scriptures didn’t sail across my mind’s screen as usual. Fresh breath of the Spirit to back them up just wasn’t there. Only silence.

Days passed, and still nothing. My sense of well-being began to peter out as pressure to produce grew. My heart became increasingly saddened, desperate to hear something—anything. Surely the Lord has some kind of encouragement to pass along. After all, our world is in such chaos; people are hurting. Now is not the time for me or the church to dummy up.

But guilt is a ruthless motivator. So is fear. They sabotage any aspirations to reach out at all.

So, instead, I’ve embraced the silence and the ache of longing it incites. I’ve just been this week—not done. Knowing that there is something sacred about God’s silence if I’ll allow Him to delve deeper than mere words ever could.

In the Silence

by Jason Upton

Tired of telling You, You have me

When I know You really don’t

Tired of telling You I’ll follow

When I know I really won’t

Cause I’d rather stand here speechless

With no great words to say

If my silence is more truthful

And my ears can hear how to walk in Your ways

In the silence

You are speaking

In the quiet I can feel the fire

And it’s burning, burning deeply

Burning all is all that You desire

To be silent . . . in me

Oh Jesus, can You hear me?

My soul is screaming out

And my broken will cries teach me

What Your Kingdom’s all about

Unite my heart to fear You

To fear Your holy name

And create a life of worship

In the spirit and truth of Your loving ways

In the silence

You are speaking

In the quiet, I can feel its fire

And it’s burning, burning deeply

Burning all is all that You desire

To be silent . . . in me.