The Sound of Silence
Silence is rarely silent. Often, it is louder than the surrounding voices. When we sit back and allow contrary and even destructive voices to drown out the voices of compassion, our silence becomes a statement. It reflects who we are and who we choose to be: apathetic.
Zechariah 7:9: “Show kindness and compassion to one another.”
When we turn away from someone in need and ignore those struggling to survive or be recognized, our inaction resonates louder than words. It suggests that their lives are less significant than ours. We proclaim that our chaotic, confusing, and busy existence is more valuable than compassion or grace, as if their stories matter less than ours.
“Sometimes loneliness makes the loudest noise.” ― Aaron Ben-Ze’ev
The Sound of Apathy
Silence is rarely silent. Not offering a kind word or an act of compassion often does more harm than harsh words. It leaves the other person feeling invisible and without value. Some argue that anger is better than apathy because at least anger still involves feeling. Apathy, however, is a void; it’s the absence of love, empathy, and connection.
Matthew 5:7, “Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.”
The powerful aspect of compassion is that it transforms us. When we choose to see others and enter their lives, we begin to perceive a richer, more understanding world. We come alive by helping others feel alive. That’s not a burden—it’s a gift. Silence eats away at the core of who God made us. It degrades the essence of who we are, created in His image.
“Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.” – Leo Buscaglia.
The Sound of God’s Whisper
Silence drowns out the whisper of God’s love calling us to action. God doesn’t force us to care; He doesn’t demand action. He gently whispers through love, inviting us to respond not out of obligation but out of gratitude. Loving others isn’t a requirement for earning God’s love—it’s a result of receiving it.
Proverbs 11:17. “Those who are kind benefit themselves, but the cruel bring ruin on themselves.”
Yes, life is demanding. We have schedules to keep, responsibilities to manage, and our wounds to heal. But the challenge isn’t whether we’ll face obstacles; it’s whether we’ll rise above them. Whether we’ll choose the path of love, even when it’s inconvenient. Life will offer you the rationalization needed to move on in silence. But is that God’s nature? God never chose silence when we were in need. He gave His son that we may live. And if we want to reflect His heart, neither can we.
Galatians 6:2, “Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.”
Happy Birthday to me. Yesterday, I turned seventy-five—three-quarters of a century lived. It’s hard to believe. Deep inside me still lives that sixteen-year-old small-town farm boy wondering how we got here. The truth is, it didn’t happen all at once. It was a journey of countless tiny steps—millions, billions, maybe even trillions of small decisions, each shaping the road ahead.
Surviving life in a broken world can be all-consuming. It seems to me that we used to have to deal with political and economic chaos in larger, more pronounced clumps. Governments would change, and recessions would come and go over extended periods. There was always a ramp-up to change. The world has changed.
The answer I didn’t expect was created because it wasn’t within my design.
You Are a Child of the King: Embracing Your Royal Identity. That is a fantastic statement of self-worth. It is a statement most of us can’t internalize. We can’t see ourselves as royalty; we see the failures, shortcomings and defects, not the purple robe of royalty. We know, intellectually, that we are descendants of royalty. But that knowledge doesn’t filter down to our consciousness.
I do; I want to be an avenging angel, raining down brimstone and fire on all that is evil in the world; I want God to empower me to wreak havoc on all that is wrong. I want to be invincible and omni-powerful; I want to walk into the private enclaves of the rich and powerful and demand retribution. How cathartic would that be? How validating and hopeful would the world seem to me? Me, reigning over the unjust and the unworthy. But who would want to rain down brimstone on me?
Matthew 5:9, “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.”
Matthew 5:8, “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.”
Matthew 5:5 – “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.”
“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 5:3).