Quiet Love

It seems kind of odd to talk about quiet. Sort of like writing an article on health in between slurps of mega-size Dr. Pepper. But here goes.

It's hard to believe that it's been 20 years since these words were first played on the radio,

What would you do if my heart was torn in two
More than words to show you feel
That your love for me is real
What would you say
If I took those words away? 

(From "More than Words" by Extreme)


But it still applies--sometimes words are a nuisance and simply aren't helpful. Words are not always the best language of love. Like,

At a funeral -- "Well at least he's in a better place"
When a baby dies -- "Maybe you'll have another one"
When your dog of 15 years dies -- "You need to get another puppy."
When your Mom and Dad divorce -- "Well, an unhappy marriage is worse than divorce."

Or feeling like we must respond to every question in the shadow of Newtown, CT. Like these responses:
"I'll tell you where God was. He left the building in 1963 when we took prayer out of the schools."
"I wonder what was wrong in that home."
"There needs to be a filter for sick people."
"Another reason for gun-control."

There may be a time for discussing these things. But not now. We need the love that is expressed with fewer words. Now is not the time to explain. Now is the time for the ministry of presence. To quote another old song, sometimes "my words get in the way." Silence is golden. Not the kind that sits in coldness but warm, loving silence with actions of loving kindness.

Think about the darkest moments of your life. What do you remember? What someone said? Or who was there? It's rare we remember what was said. But we always remember who sat with us, held us and cried. 

Yeah, I know. I've just proved my point. So much for quiet. I've already said too much.