The Misinterpreted Gift of Silence
| Hi there! I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought of you. After writing daily for 6 months, and then going cold turkey for about the same, I just wanted to say, “Hi! I missed you.” I’m not sure how to even talk about 2025 yet. I’ll try a short version… We up and moved. We saw God move. We saw supernatural moves of the Holy Spirit that I think I’m still in shock over. I think we’ll write about 3 books each about what happened this last year! And that was just my personal life. Through it all, I wrote for 180 days straight, equipping the saints to walk in the power of Holy Spirit and to live with purity of heart at PowerAndPurity.com. Shortly after I finished my assignment, Charlie Kirk died. Since then, I have said next to nothing online. I’ve been resting, observing, praying. Listening instead of talking. Some judge silence. But when grief is involved, silence is often the gentlest gift we can offer. And if not to the world, sometimes, silence is the gift we need to offer to ourselves. The chance to get still and quiet in our own souls before reentering the clamor of the world. Worldwide, it’s only been 4 months since Charlie Kirk died. Revival poured out (and is still pouring!) across the globe. Tens of thousands of people are gathering in different countries across the world, worshipping, giving their lives to Christ, being baptized. It seems the whole world is kind of holding it’s breath now. We all perceive the recent massive shifts in both the natural and the spirit. And we know in our bones an even bigger change is ahead. We just don’t know yet if it’s going to be a greater triumph or a greater tribulation. Or both. At least, that’s my take on it all. Do you feel this angsty pivot in the timeline of humanity as well? Regardless, I’m more and more convinced Jesus is coming back soon. Leaning in to rest and my own little nest too. Leaning in to figure out how to spend my days wisely. And until I have clarity on how to move forward with my writing, I’ll likely remain quiet here. When God is silent in our grief, it used to upset me. I took it as abandonment. As if he were unconcerned or distant. But I finally realized that when God is quiet in our grief, He offers us His presence. He may not offer any prose, poetry, or preaching. But we can rest assured, we have God’s presence. He draws near to the brokenhearted. And that’s a promise we can count on. In the days ahead, draw near to Him as He draws near to you. I plan to do the same. |
| Til next time… Toodle-loo, and Peace be with you! |
