“Be still, and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth!”
By Melissa Moyo
I scream out your name but my words hit the ceiling, fell back as the feathers of a bird that has been clipped off its wings. I stay on the ground unable to fly, can you hear me? My voice echoes through these walls, cracking them open for you to hear the words of my heart, but the wind drives them back in once again.
My floor is carpeted with a thousand words, words that never reached you. Reeling on the ground not sure if they’ll find their way home. My voice has lost its strength and slowly fades into a whisper, a whisper in the dark silence. Perhaps your language is silence? This kind of silence is deafening. An ear pricking defeating silence.
I sent you countless words enshrouded in a book, I watched the dust encrust them. I looked as the fluffy leaves of your feather duster caressed my forgotten desires. Longing and wishing for the touch of hands, your fingers run through the pages of my prayer. My broken whisper is to you a loud scream. Can you hear the cries of a battered heart against the walls of your gentle loving heart? Can you hear my defeated cries falling back into each page and chapter of unanswered plea and petition?
I am still on the shelf and not sure how to get to you. My strength is drained, but you are there, not moving an inch to listen to the words of my heart concerning you, words are fading into silence. Perhaps your language is silence? This kind of silence is deafening. An ear pricking defeating silence.
Learning the language of silence, I pack my words into boxes, hoping one day you will open it up and unlock the loud in this silence. But until then, I lie here on the ground crippled by hope deferred and the conviction that I have gone unheard.
Days slide past and I am tempted to petition you again, but that fear infests my memory. Will you hear me this time? And my words shrivel into a quiet nothingness. Have I not read that your ear is not deaf to hear my call? Perhaps your language is silence? This kind of silence is deafening.
Your silence is deafening the words of my heart concerning you, in me. Where can I learn this code, the one that you hear without effort? Perhaps my ear is too deaf to perceive your response? I can’t hear you through your silence, that has never been my dialect. My ear is not too deaf to hear you nor my hand too short to gather all your words up, that’s what you said, when I could still hear you.
The deaf hear silence only, you have to stop treating me like I am deaf, in silence I am loudest, can you hear me in the quiet of the night? When the stars blink heir song to each other quietly? In the deafening silence I hear you say, be still and you will hear me deafening this silence.
Learning to listen to you in this silence, I realise the silence is not deafening, I gather myself and graze through your Word. I watch it echo through the cracked walls of my heart. Before I was, you spoke and things stood. The mountains rose and the seas knew where to stop. I hear you clearly in this deafened silence.
My words have a new life, resurrected with a renewed strength they flutter through the defeated silence. So, I scream into the dark, knowing you have neither been muted nor deafened but you defeat the silence. I hear you shouting the storm to silence, and it cowers into a whimper, a whisper then… complete peace and calm. I hear you ruffle the leaves of the trees, boughs bow in reverence and the robins respond in tune. Your Word echoes above the peaceful ripples, “Be Still and Know That I Am God…” Then I know your language is NOT silence?