SILENCE.
By Sharlene Provilus
It was quiet.
Silence spoke volumes as broken vessels
tried to fix their hearts on the almost, but not quite yet
reality of a new day.No waiting to exhale.
Lungs became armored oxygen tanks,
ready to combat what they feared
would take their breath away.They questioned whether the Bread of Life
could satisfy their craving for freedom from oppression.
They watched the Son begin to set—
leaving them in the dark for the first time.The unknown held them hostage.
Unbearable trials and guilty sentences
made them captives of curiosity.
Everyone was trying to find the right emotional glue
to hold together paper-thin hope.Conversations simmered under the heat of the moment.
Naysayers found speakers to amplify doubt,
while followers of the Way saw a path to a new Kingdom.The prospect of prospering under the priest
who took the palace
while preaching principles over power
propelled their expectations.
The in-betweeners—
those who lived between the Rock of their salvation
and the hard place of people-pleasing—
found themselves in-between the momentThey secretly wanted a seat at the table
they despised others for sitting at.The days grew long.
Twenty-four hours felt like two thousand years of waiting.
Quieting one’s thoughts
in an attempt to hear
God’s heart is more difficult
than they ever imagined
especially when He is silent.
ABOUT
THESE
LINES
There’s a kind of silence that doesn’t come from peace; it comes from pause. It’s the stillness that sits between what was promised and what hasn’t happened yet. Silence was written for that in-between place—a reflection on the hours between Jesus’ final breath and His resurrection. It’s the space where grief still lingers, hope feels fragile, and faith is tested by waiting.
YOUR
TURN
Where in your life are you standing between what was and what’s next?
How do you usually respond when heaven feels quiet
What might God be forming in you during the silence?
