Originally published Thursday, 12 May 2016.
They sit, these sisters, clasping tea in hands, telling me the story I know. The story of silence, the story of keeping it all hidden, pretending everything is okay.
They sit and share the wounds of the darkness, love muddled in attempt to keep things clean, organized, simple. The problem with pushing down truth is that truth cannot be hidden forever. And there is a cost to silence that is more bitter than the initial pain itself.
REPERCUSSIONS TO SILENCE ARE FELT IN NEW WAYS–ALL FOR THE FEAR OF LETTING LIGHT SHINE.
Do you, friend, have a memory when you, as a child, tried to put together the pieces to a situation you didn’t fully understand? Do you feel the burden of silence, of things unspoken, of relationships strained?
WE ARE MADE FOR RELATIONSHIP. WE ARE MADE FOR COMMUNITY. WE ARE MADE TO SHARE STORIES AND LET HIS LIGHT SHINE ON THE PLACES OF PAIN, OF FEAR, OF PRIDE.
I squirm in my chair and my heart leaps with recognition. Yes, I understand this. This invitation to unearth–seeking to discover lies of my past–makes me both excited and afraid.
For I remember. I’ve been here before.
Over the years, the yearning for truth is squelched, pushed down, too far. And the darkness receives it, swallows it whole.
There the lies are nourished, fed by the years of handling the silence on our own. And there, the agreement is made: I don’t have a voice, I am alone, I need to figure this out by myself, the cries of my heart don’t matter, I am not good enough.
The silence makes its insidious crawl, pushing its way from the deep recesses where it is further watered and new sprouts shaped. It curls upward and winds it way along the surface of the ground, a vine snaking in shadow, away from the chance of life outside.
And that is when the unearthing must come.
“The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it” (John 1:5) .
“For God, who said, ‘Light shall shine out of darkness,’ is the One who has shone in our hearts to give the Light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ” (2 Corinthians 4:6).
Dear sisters, you are not meant to be silent. Your wounds are not invisible, forgotten, uncared for. Your voice, when you call His name, reaches to the heavens (Psalm 10:17). His love for you cannot be contained. The silent scars you bear are not invisible to Him, are not silent to Him, are not unnoticed by Him. He calls your name and cradles you close, knocking, asking if it is okay for Him to lift you up, to unearth the pain you bear (Luke 11:10). He promises to take that burden from you, carry it Himself, longing to remind you that He did it already, when He hung on a cross for you.
Let the Father unearth you like He unearthed His Son. He redeems the darkness. He makes everything light.
“Then Jesus again spoke to them, saying, “I am the Light of the world; he who follows Me will not walk in the darkness, but will have the Light of life” (John 8:12).
As sisters, as daughters, as friends, we are called to bring light to darkness.
WE ARE CALLED TO GIVE VOICE TO TRUTH AND THEN TRUST THAT HE SETS THE CAPTIVES–OF SILENCE–FREE.
I appreciate the beautiful vulnerability–the courage–demonstrated in the Loop Prayer Sisters group. It is a private group on Facebook (you can request to join here) where sisters lay bare their need for God–asking for prayer for themselves and lifting up one another to Him. I pray it is a place, even on-line, that the Holy Spirit covers, leads, and women are in community sharing what is on their hearts.
Is there something you are keeping hidden that God is asking you to trust Him with? How do you need community around you now?
This post appeared originally at jenniferjcamp.com