I’ve started this blog entry three times. This is the fourth. I think I know what I want to say now. Finally. But that’s what this is about: finding the message.
The first idea was boring. The second grew trite. The third—grim. And who wants to read grim? (Unless it’s Grimm’s Fairy Tales. That’s a great exception!) Inspiration comes to me in many forms, but I’ve been oblivious for the past however many days, sick. I fulfilled the writer's image of being in pajamas all the time--only writers are supposed to write. It's a good idea for us to be well-traveled, too. The farthest I’ve traveled is one foot out the door to grab the mail out of the box. I was going nowhere, fast. So was this blog entry.
Then out of the blue, a long-time family friend showed up at our door. Mere months from retirement, he got terminated. He's utterly devastated.
Chris brought him in and listened. He just listened. He’d ask a question here or there, showing his concern and empathy.
I prayed. I asked for the right words. Just as I was asking for the right message for this blog.
Nothing came, so I kept my mouth shut. Anyone who knows me for three minutes is boggled at this. I even talk in my sleep. I'm not so sure I can take a lot of credit for remaining silent. I still feel pretty crummy, am post-migraine, and the bronchitis/asthma barking-seal cough strained my vocal cords.
As our friend left, I told him, “We love you. We’re praying. We’re here.”
Such simple words.
He said, “Thanks. I needed to hear that. I really did. I knew you guys would be there, and you’d listen.”
So here’s my blog:
Sometimes, as Christians we want to help others and fix problems—but we can’t. Only God can.
But we can love
And stand alongside
Silence *IS* Golden.
I think I'm going to need to buy duct tape for my mouth when I'm in real clothes and going farther than the front door.