Silence Can Be A Loud Invitation

​I was at a large work gathering yesterday. I finished my lunch quickly and decided to return to the large conference room where we were meeting for some quiet time. Because there are times when we all NEED some quiet time.

But on my way there, I noticed a dear friend and colleague sitting in a chair in the corner of a nook in our conference area. She was alone, but something told me her alone wasn't out of a search for quiet time.

So I approached her.

I hadn't seen her in quite some time. So I asked her, how are you? The answer was quite evident to me before I asked, so I wasn't surprised to hear her say, I've been struggling.

She went on to tell me she'd been battling health issues.

I asked her if the health issues were significant. Looking back I wish I hadn't asked that. Her sitting alone in a chair and the worried look on her face was all I needed to know about significance. I should never pressure another to rate their struggle as significant or insignificant. Struggle is struggle.

With that said, though, my friend's health struggle is indeed significant and complicated.

As she told me what she is battling, I found myself taking one of her hands with one of my hands and placing my other hand gently on her head - much without thinking - and I told her that I am praying for her.

I was praying for her in that moment. I am praying for her in this writing.

I don't know what the answer to those prayers will be. But I could feel in our exchange that I was a momentary answer to her worries. To her anxiousness. I could tell I was a necessary reminder that her health is more important than her work - helpers are often the worst at slowing down and taking care of themselves the way they tirelessly encourage others to take care of THEMSELVES.

I am glad that on my way to chasing alone time God pointed me to someone alone who didn't much care to be alone.

We live in a world where issues and struggles are often loud and amplified. They are attacking and in our face. That makes it all the more important for us to be ever mindful of those quietly struggling. Those sitting in a corner far away from the fray but not far away from the fray of their own inner turmoil.

We live in times where it's easy to be grateful for the silence - for ours and the silence of others. I understand that. But we also need to understand that silence isn't always a desire, sometimes it's an invitation.