And at some point, the wind changed, blown by God’s spirit. After my years of silence, I finally have things to say, and I am not holding back. The strangest thing is that now when I call my people a brood of vipers they listen, they nod, they can’t get enough of it.
Tag Archives | silence
I didn’t understand. From age 11 through to age 14 and beyond, I didn’t understand how people who claimed to follow the same God as me could have such a radically different view of His purpose and plan. God stood, distant and cold, behind a dark cloud of resentment, anger, and confusion. And I gave up on Him.
I’ve learnt that while God is sometimes silent, He is never absent. He chose to remain silent over our prayers for a child, but He was always present with us—even when we couldn’t feel it. And I’ve learnt that a greater tragedy than a broken dream is a life forever defined by one.
I cried because I love blogging, and it’s such a lifeline – and I cried because at the same time a part of my soul leapt and said, ‘yes, I need rest’
Elora Ramirez is a remarkable woman, full of passion and compassion. She is the founder of The Story Unfolding (offering story coaching and the excellent Story 101 and Story 201 online writing courses I’ve been enjoying), and the author of Every Shattered Thing, which I reviewed earlier. Her writing is fire and beauty, and I […]
Yesterday, in the silence of the house, I could hear the rain softly falling, dibble-dabbling on the ground. It was the soundtrack to my day. I had walked past the bedroom – and felt the absence of my boys. I walked to the bathroom, and saw a small pair of pyjamas on the nappy changing […]
People often ask me how I can stand it as an extrovert – being housebound and unable to see friends very much. One answer is that I just have to – so that’s how I stand it. But another answer is ‘the Internet’. I started blogging when my brain energy was just good enough to […]
You would think it would be easy to be in the here-and-now when you are housebound. My ‘here’ is very comfortable: lemon walls, white cupboards, two pillows on my bed, the birds starting to sing for morning. Spring is tentatively tiptoeing in, bruised by all the snow and rain. But the ‘there’ creeps […]