The Sound of Silence...

There's a line in Taylor Swift's song "Story of Us" that says "I've never heard silence quite this loud."  Do you know what that sounds like? What that feels like? The deafening roar of silence where you are just praying that something, anything makes a noise and cracks the tension in the air. This sort of silence is not usually something positive. This silence sneaks in, comes into the room when you least expect it. I have experienced such silence. 

It's terrifying. You are left unable to breathe, feeling like you are being crushed under the weight of the blackness. Feeling like your lungs are filling with water and that you'll drown in the quiet all around. When you've been diagnosed with PTSD, the sound of silence can be part of the reoccurrence that you experience in a flashback. My ears are usually the first thing to lose their sense when I'm in these moments of paralyzing fear. It feels like there's water in my ears. It feels like my ears are muffled and ringing all at the same time. The sound of silence. 

There are many people who I'm assuming are affected by this sound of silence. Just this past Sunday we honored the memory of those lost in the terror attacks of 9/11. There was a speech by President Obama, giant flags, tears rolling down cheeks, and the sound of silence, a moment of silence for those we lost. Memories of that day flooded quickly in as these events took place. Where were you? Who were you with? What did you feel afterwards? The shock settling in, and the sound of silence. Reoccurrence of the sound of silence for the people who grieve the loss of all those precious lives. 

Just this past week I experienced this sound of silence again. Helping Amelia with her Washington State History homework, she had to create a timeline of her life. 2010, in her innocent 9-year-old scribbled handwriting, were the words "my dad died" and the silence creeped in. Not that I didn't know it was coming. Not that I wasn't expecting it. But her tear-filled eyes as she read it to me, and exclaimed that she would be the only one in her class with that on her timeline. We hugged each other. And prayed together. And swam through the sound of silence arm in arm. 

But, as I've stated before, our story doesn't end here. Our story doesn't drown in the sound of silence. Our story has made its way into a difference silence. The silence of the peace that passes all understanding. The silence of peace from our Heavenly Father. The silence that comes from being whole and healed and a daughter of the King! The silence of a quiet moment of prayer, when all the rest of the world is blocked out and the darkness and hate and anger and thoughts of evil slough away. The sound of silence where you hear angels singing and our sweet Father's voice filling you with His promises! 

We are making it, a day at a time, marching through our timeline and putting space between 2010 and where we are headed. God has big plans for Amelia. He will hold her hand and carry her through and grant her the peaceful sound of silence.  And each step I take with Father God is another step toward victory with Him. The sound of silence used to swallow me whole, make me feel all of those feelings explained in the initial part of this post. There are times, like this week, that I get caught up in the dark, swirling waters all over again, but I spend most of my time now in the peaceful silence with God. 

Find yourself there too! Spend time with Him and talk to Him and let Him carry you out of the unbearable sound of silence into the silence of His peace! He's waiting for you...