An invalid was left alone one evening for a little while. After many days of acute pain there was a lull. “Now,” she thought, “I shall be able to pray a little.” But she was too wearied out and exhausted for this; feeling that utter weakness of mind and body which cannot be realized without actual experience, when the very lips shrink from the exertion of a whisper, and it seems too much effort of thought to shape even unspoken words. Only one whisper came: “Lord Jesus, I am so tired!” She prayed no more; she could not frame even the petition that, as she could not speak to Him, He would speak to her. But the Lord Jesus knew all the rest; He knew how she had waited for and wanted the sweet conscious communing with Him, the literal talking to Him and telling Him all that was in her heart. And He knew that, although a quiet and comparatively painless hour had come, she was “so tired” that she could not think. Very tenderly did He, who knows how to speak a word in season to the weary, choose a message in reply to that little whisper. “Be silent to the Lord!” It came like a mother’s “hush” to one whom his mother comforteth. It was quite enough, as every Spirit-given word is; and the acquiescent silence was filled with perfect peace. Only real friends understand silence. With a passing guest or ceremonial acquaintance you feel under an obligation to talk; you make effort to entertain them as a matter of courtesy; you may be tired or weak, but no matter, you feel you must exert yourself. But with a very dear and intimate friend sitting by you, there is no feeling of the kind. To be sure, you may talk if you feel able: pouring out all sorts of confidences, relieved and refreshed by the interchange of thoughts and sympathies. But if you are very tired, you know you do not need to say a word. You are perfectly understood, and you know it. You can enjoy the mere fact of your friend’s presence, and find that does you more good than conversation. The sense of that present and sympathetic affection rests you more than any words. And your friend takes it as the highest proof of your friendship and confidence, and probably never loves you so vividly as in these still moments. No matter that twilight is falling, and that you cannot see each other’s faces, the presence and the silence are full of brightness and eloquence, and you feel they are enough.
Even so we may be silent to the Lord. Just because we know He loves us so really and understands us so thoroughly! There is no need when very weary, bodily or mentally, or both, to force ourselves to entertain Him, so to speak; to go through a sort of duty-work of a certain amount of uttered words or arranged thoughts. That might be if He were only to us as a wayfaring man that turneth aside to tarry for a night, but not with the beloved and Gracious One who has come in to abide with us, and is always there! If this is His relation to us, there is no fear but what there will be, at other times, plenty of intercourse; but now, when we are “so tired,” we may just be silent to Him, instead of speaking to Him.
This is one of the expressions which are exclusively used concerning the things of God. There is no such thing as being silent to anyone else. Silent with a mortal friend, but never silent to any but the Immortal One. Though it has its earthly analogy, it is not identically the same. For none but our Lord can interpret the unseen pulsing’s of that which to human ken is only silence. He hears the music they are measuring out before Him. He takes the confidence of that hush at its full value of golden love. He sees the soul’s attitude of devotion and faith through the shadows which hide it from itself.
Sometimes He takes the opportunity of our silence to speak Himself. He answers it “with good words and comfortable words.” And do we not know that one such word from Him is more than anything else, worth ten thousand-fold all the weariness or exhaustion of pain which brought us to be silent.
But sometimes He answers silence with silence. What then? Are we to conclude that He is gone away, or is not thinking about us, forgetting to be gracious? We are judging Him as He would not judge us. He did not put such an interpretation on our silence; then why should we on Him? Let us take His interpretation of it; surely we should believe what He Himself asserts! “He will be silent in His love” (Zeph. 3:1717The Lord thy God in the midst of thee is mighty; he will save, he will rejoice over thee with joy; he will rest in his love, he will joy over thee with singing. (Zephaniah 3:17), margin). Can any words be more beautiful! It is as if He, who made man’s mouth, had made no words which could express His exceeding great love, and therefore He could only expand it in the silence which lies above and below and beyond all language. When we have said, as very likely we have often done, “Why art Thou silent unto me, O Lord?” why did we not take His own exquisite answer, and trust the love that was veiled in the silence? For whenever we can say, “Truly my soul waiteth upon (Hebrew—is silent to) God,” we may rest assured that any apparent waiting on His part is only “that He may be gracious,” yes, “very gracious unto thee.”
We may be sure He has many things to say to us, when He sees we can bear them. But till His time to speak is come, let our silence of trust respond to His silence of love.