Heavy heart. Teary eyes. Sore knees. Prayers unanswered. Are You even listening? Are You concerned with my unbearable, heart wrenching pain? Are You even there, on the throne where they say You sit and watch? I have beseeched You. I have implored You. I have poured out, and made bare in Your presence every detail that weighs my soul. I have forfeited the very basic of comforts, and intensely listened, waiting for Your voice. Silence.

Three in the night, three years ago on Saturday of twenty first of October, I was woken up by the slight tremble of my hubby’s feeble body. The sudden return of strength to his muscles had delighted my greatly troubled heart. And I jumped out of the hospital’s narrow bed to check on him, grateful that You have shown mercy. Only to find him struggling to cling onto life. Helplessly I watched as life slips away. Helplessly I held his gaze as his eyes turn white. Helpless, I turned to You. Silence.

“Oh yes He cares!” I sung with my whole heart, I sung to my children as they flock their dad’s casket. Desolation in their cries while their eyes search mine for the meaning of life. I clung onto those words with all of my might. I clung onto Your promises when the love of my life was being lowered to his grave. The casket reached the bottom with a thud and my heart sunk.  The soil hit the coffin and I became sick in the stomach. Perhaps in Your silence there was a lesson I had to learn. Perhaps in your silence there was an assurance for my breaking soul. I waited for the lesson. I waited for hope. Silence.

Acute loneliness gripped my heart. Ripping traces of warmth out of me. Squeezing trails of hope out of my soul. Then they came to claim what they had referred to as ‘rightfully theirs’. Swiftly, before the red earth on the grave could settle, I had nothing to my name. They took from my hands even the reward of my toil. You are a powerful God. In Your silence to my plight, what was I to use to defend myself? You are a just God. In Your silence to my plight, where was I supposed to find justice? In the courts of law?

I still marched into Your house. At your feet I still stayed. Fasting. Requesting. Waiting. Eager than before, I studied your word. Humble than before, I begged that your grace be sufficient to me too. Convinced that this time You will come near my broken heart, and whisper healing and comfort. But my plight was far from over. My three sons, when the storm stayed longer than we had expected, turned to alcohol. And all that was noble and innocent in them got washed to the drain with every gulp they took. The last thread of my will threatening to break, I remained on my knees throughout the night. Silence.

The taste of peace of mind is now a faint memory. Why would you distant yourself from me? What errs in me warrants such cruel pain?  Break the silence and show me, that I may correct my ways. Three years is such a long time to endure sleepless nights with an anxious heart, break the silence now and tell me the lessons I ought to learn. My heart is bleeding and I greatly doubt the strength in me to continue holding on. Break the silence, for I fear this darkness will consume me. This is my prayer tonight, break the silence.


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