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  • Writer's pictureKris Freudenthal


“My girl, why are you scared of the silence?”

Because I don’t want to feel alone. And I don’t want to be left with my own crazy thoughts. Thinking things that are not of You makes me feel even more out of control than I already am.

“Even in the silence, I am there. My voice still speaks. My songs still ring. And My truth is still found radiating off every element of this world that I created for you. Your very soul recognizes what your mind cannot. Trust Me. I am still here. Do you see Me? Can you hear Me?”

In a world of chaos and clutter, has silence lost its truest value? Has it been hidden under the sounds of technology and busyness and the stereotypical life? Or, perhaps, is its value found even more so when the silence falls on the ears of the longing? For I am among those who long, those who crave, to find peace and value and security in the nothingness that slowly is being removed from our world.

“Be still and know that I am Lord.”

Can I really afford not to stop and listen? Can I afford to go another day without heading His plea? Can my body and mind last one more hour without the thrill of emptiness, without the power that comes from simply stopping? I need this strength that is only found on the whispers of the wind as they graze across the tips of the leaves. I need this energy, this substance found only in the dancing of the light rays against the sharp, deeply green blades of grass once trampled by human feet, now dancing to a song it along can hear. I need to be still.

“Let the thoughts come, Dear One. Let them come. Only then can we address their source and begin to let them go.”

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