“For some moments in life there are no words.”
~David Seltzer, American screenwriter
A picture is worth a thousand words.
Sometimes a breath is worth a thousand words.
Or one heartbeat … to … the … next.
One thousand words.
Not a single one of those thousand words need be uttered … but the width, breadth, height and depth of the emotion is there.
In Your Words: When was silence more eloquent than anything you could have said?
Comments 32
So true!!!
At the birth of my babies – words were inadequate.
(What a joyful photo!!!)
I’d love to say I took that photo, Patricia. But that was taken at my son’s wedding a few years back. That’s my daughter dancing — and, yes, she was having a wonderful time dancing.
🙂
When was silence better … when I saw my son holding his newborn son. When I sat next to my mom and listened – in person – at an Andrea Bocelli concert. When I realized my mother had taken her last breath. When I hear my grandsons giggle.
No words, Karen.
Sometimes, I find that I’m so tired from everything. Noise surrounds me all day long. So when I can get away to someplace quiet, and sit, and soak in the Truth of God’s word, THAT is awesome.
Yes — to have a chance to walk away from all the noise and be quiet, soak up Truth … so refreshing.
Yes, especially hearing uplifting transcending music (or participating in it until I can’t any more), or seeing scenery like mountain ranges falling back peak after shining peak, each rising higher than the previous, until they disappear in the heavens . . .
Beautiful imagery, Dee.
And I can hear you singing …
🙂
Silence is most golden to me in hugs that convey love, support, comfort, encouragement, and so much more. No words necessary. Thanks for this wonderful reminder, Beth, that words aren’t the only way we let others know how much we care.
Sometimes the best comfort is the unspoken kind. You are so right, Donna.
Love that picture of Christa. The joy on her face says it all.
23 years later when I stare at my wedding bands and think, “Wow, he really picked me.”
Hugs from my grown sons.
Holding my first published book in my hands. No Words. Just a thankful heart.
🙂
I remember holding your published book too, LJ.
No words.
The look on your face . . . no words.
Last week my youngest son called to thank me for the way I’ve loved him, often with tough love. He was holding his three-day-old baby girl and suddenly understood fierce parental love that would do anything to protect that child. He said, “I don’t have the words….”
And then, trying to tell him what that meant to me, I didn’t have the words.
Thank you, Beth, for acknowledging that sometimes there just are no words. As a writer, I tend to think I “should” be able to find words to describe everything. You’ve set that feeling free!! (sigh of relief)
🙂
Oh so many times. I feel this in joy as much as I feel this in sadness–how the absence of words carries more power sometimes.
~ Wendy
Silence is powerful.
Great way to explain it.
Last Sunday when were were singing Take my Hand Precious Lord and the enormity of what Jesus did for me filled my heart.
I’ve experienced the “no words” phenomena many times on my faith journey.
Beth, love the thought that sometimes silence is the most eloquent. For me, holding each of our children for the first time, counting tiny fingers and toes left me speechless with wonder. Watching God paint the sky with vivid colors early in the morning usually leaves me in awe. There are other times too, but these are the two that came to mind right away. 🙂
Jeanne:
Babies.
And sunsets, sunrises … God does those beautifully, doesn’t he? Especially in Colorado.
🙂
The truest. There have been so many times in my life where silence spoke so much louder and more beautifully than words ever could. I probably shed some silent tears with them, as well. 🙂
Yeah, the tears come too.
Silence was my response when I held our daughter for the first time, when my beloved mother-in-law lost her battle with breast cancer, when my agent told me she had a offer on my book. At times like these, silence can express awe, sorrow, jubilation more powerfully than any words.
Silence = so many emotions.
Like right now I am listening to a beautiful song of worship … but I’m not singing along.
I’m silent.
Worship with no words.
When Ollie went in for one of his open heart surgeries, the doctors told the family to be prepared for him not to make it. We met with a chaplain, prayed…
After the surgery, when the surgeon came in to the room, the silence was so intense…and when he said, “It went wonderfully, we’re all amazed,” the silence morphed into a completely different quiet. Awe and thankfulness and so, so, so much happiness…finally I think my mom said, “Praise the Lord…”
I have loved following Ollie’s story, Melissa.
I think the birth of my children…no words could describe. Each just a precious moment in time.
I think I will be speechless when I hold a grandchild someday, and maybe a book I’ve written.
The birth of a child … yes …
When my late-in-life-kiddo was born, her two sisters were there in the birthing room too. And then her brother met her when she was all of three minutes old.
A whole new experience for me.
Beautiful.
The birth of my son and sitting by my father as he joined Jesus in heaven were both perfect moments of silence.
I’m seeing a thread today …
beginnings and endings …
Silence is something I am lacking at this current stage in my life with two babies. I miss it terribly. But when those babies are sleeping, and silence reigns, even if only for a few moments, it is truly miraculous and beautiful. Before I had kids, I remember having a major breakdown, sobbing to my husband about something beyond our control. And what I appreciated most was that he didn’t immediately try to fix it. He just let me cry, and comforted me with his arms and his silent strength. The older I get the more I have come to realize that silence is a great blessing. 🙂
You have a wise, wise husband, Amy.