Of Speech and Silence

Artwork Credit: Grazing Sheep (c. 1875) by Clinton Loveridge (1824–1902). Public domain image accessed via Artvee.com.

 
    If I were to speak only of what is easy, I would leave this part out. But I think many of us have felt it too, that quiet ache of not being heard. You may have tried to explain something and found yourself cut off. You may have been left speaking into a silence that shifted too quickly. It does not always strike like a blow, but it settles in nonetheless.

    Throughout my life, there were many times I could not finish what I was saying. I would be interrupted, or the person in front of me would turn away and shift the conversation before I could make my point clear. It has happened in different settings—at home, in fellowship, even in friendships I deeply value. And though I try to understand that people are often distracted or unaware, the effect is still there. After a while, I began to prefer silence. I would rather stay quiet than speak halfway and feel that my words were not worth staying for.

    Perhaps this is one reason why I sometimes choose to be alone. Not because I do not care or that I feel better than others, but because being unheard again and again can lead the heart to draw back. And when a verse or advice is quoted too quickly, before the other person even finishes sharing, it may be true, but it may not be timely. It might sound more like dismissal than care.

    Even so, this experience does not discourage me from caring. If anything, it reminds me how deeply we all need gentleness. I know I may have fallen short as well, perhaps without meaning to. I might have rushed someone’s thoughts or offered words before truly listening. And if so, I pray the Lord helps me grow more attentive, too.

    As Christians, we are called to deny ourselves. We are taught to consider others, to serve, to love. But this calling does not remove the shared responsibility of caring for one another. It must go both ways. If a brother constantly gives and is never received with attentiveness, we cannot say we are bearing his burdens. If a sister speaks and is always rushed or overlooked, we cannot say we have loved her well.

    This is not about demanding attention. It is about remembering our duty. Scripture tells us to “bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ” (Gal 6:2, NKJV). That cannot happen if we do not listen. That cannot happen if someone always feels unseen in the very place they hoped would be safe.

    To anyone reading this, we may not always notice how our words, tone, or timing affect someone. But perhaps we can pause more often. Perhaps we can let someone finish before we answer. Perhaps we can hold back advice until we have truly listened. Especially as believers, let us be mindful not to turn away too quickly or speak too soon. A person may be carrying more than they show.

    There is also comfort. Even when we are misunderstood, cut off, or disregarded, there is One who hears before we even speak. “The eyes of the Lord are on the righteous, and His ears are open to their cry” (Ps 34:15, NKJV). Our Lord never walks away mid-sentence. He never dismisses our pain, never tires of our voice. In Him, we are heard fully, and we are never hurried.