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Selah Hearing God speak in the silence by Lindsay Dyer This is what I know: the flight was smooth, the view amazing — bright blue so vast no one could tell the difference between the sky and ocean. The sun still sparkled playfully across the Pacific waves. It was January, but it wasn't cold. Suddenly, an alarm goes off. A may-day call. Then, silence. And my brother's life was over. Maybe you've lost someone you love, or at the very least, someone close to you has. So I know you can understand the evasive silence that follows a death. Indeed, when I consider my brother's death, I don't hear the roar of his helicopter crashing into the ocean or even the mournful cries of those who loved him. I hear silence. Silence will follow me when I get married without him there to watch, silence in the midst of the first cries of my children, even silence from the unborn nieces and nephews I will never meet. And perhaps your thoughts were like mine when I wondered, "Where is God ... not just in the loss, but in the silence that follows?" My brother, Adam, was a master of silence, even in life. His idea of bonding was riding in a car, watching a movie, sitting outside entirely wordless. I understood that there was little need for words between us. His gift to me was simply his presence. I never seemed satisfied with it, and not long before he died, I pushed him to speak. I wanted him to own his mistakes, take responsibility for them, but more importantly, I wanted to hear him tell me he wanted me. I never heard those words. His death only extends the silence. Recently, I have noticed how similar my feelings are to the psalmist's: What man can live and not see death, or save himself from the power of the grave? Selah The psalmist inserted Selah as a note for the reader to remember to pause, to sit in silence. Why? I believe it's not just a moment for the listener to reflect on what is being said, but an opportunity for God to speak. I like to think that what my brother left me was not just unending silence to haunt my life, but Selah ... a chance to hear Jesus speak into the loss. He loves me. He wants me. He will never leave me. Death cannot take Him away from me. And the voice of Jesus can remind me, in moments when the memory of my brother seems to overwhelm me: This life is not the end, but merely a pause, before the eternal life with Him. Selah. |
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