She had stopped speaking. Months ago. It started small. She simply stopped saying the important things, the words that mattered to her, the words he didn't seem to want to hear.
But then with each day, she spoke fewer and fewer times. A week ago she stopped speaking altogether.
She had thought he would notice but he said nothing. The house silent though they both continued with their daily tasks. Today being Sunday, they showered, dressed, passed one another in the bedroom. They drove to the church, parked. Walked to their seats and sat down. Then up again as the worship music started. Then down again and silent prayer.
That's when the words appeared. Out of nowhere in her mind. The words that were not her own. She knew this because her words she wrote down, she placed each one carefully in a notebook she carried with her. No these were new words. Unexpected words spoken silently into her heart.
Until you can let the person I sent love you, how can you really experience my love? Until you can be honest with him with your feelings how can you be honest with me. I gave him to you to teach you these things. If you can't be vulnerable with the person I gave you how can you say you trust me?
Those were not the words she wanted to hear.
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The car ride was silent again. The words churning in her mind. She did not want to speak. She did not want to make the first move. She had tried that before. She did not want to get hurt again. And yet...
Those words, the ones she knew (or felt, or believed, maybe) were from God. They pushed.
"We need to talk," she said, the words hoarse escaping her mouth.
"I know," he replied. "I've been waiting for you."
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Your turn. What does she say next? Why did she stop talking?
Because he stopped listening...
ReplyDeleteWas it intentional? Was he tired of hearing what she had to say? Or did he not even realize that he had stopped listening?
DeleteShe used to talk. In fact some people who knew her from years ago were heart broken as they watched her become more and more swallowed up in silence. This was the protective layer that she began to put on herself, piece by piece, as the hurts on her bare soul began to sting too much. For years she would innocently bare too much flesh of her heart. This was the way she always was. And up until now, she didn't know that that was a dangerous way to be. At first she thought, but later had to settle for hoping that things would be different. It wasn't like the baring had much impact on the one she loved afterall because the object of her love was too wounded, too prideful to see past his own existence. Oh, occasionally during a good season he would recognize the treasure he had in her, but before she could grab her new woven coat of hardened heart and silent words, the slashing knife of anger, mental abuse and manipulation would slash her again, only leaving her bleeding on the floor saying to herself "Why God? I try so hard..." It only took one last gash so large that it sliced off a piece of her worn heart to cause her to retreat and vow to never love like that again. That is why, when God asked her to love like Him, it was the most painful thing that could ever be asked of her. How can a broken heart love the one who has shattered her?
ReplyDeleteBeautiful words. Hard, painful words. Thanks for sharing them.
DeleteBy the way, she did choose love after many lists of pros vs. cons, tears and uplifting of arms of those who loved her. Because she chose love, the object of her love was awakened to a new reflection of his creator that he never believed in before. Because of the way she chose to deal with her wound, he started to believe there was a God after all. Now, if she could only be mature enough to say it was worth it-being an instrument in the hand of a redeeming God who holds salvation of his children as a higher priority than the comfort of those who are already His.
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