Dear Wounded Healer
God calls you to a listening ministry. That means that you must give the gift of silence.
That does not mean that you say nothing. You must speak to let the other person know that you hear. You must invite the other to go deeper and trust herself more. You must ask questions to draw out her wisdom.
But ultimately, you must let your words recede. Your words build a fence around a green field of silence. They make that field a safe place for the other to wander and play, to discover the power in her legs, to breathe the blue sky, to abide in expansiveness. Then your words remain at the periphery, and the dance of the other is all.
Some holy people withdraw from the world, sending it a gift of silence. But that silence becomes indifference unless they compassionately attend to the world and pray for it. And only by offering loving silence to the world do they encounter God for whom they long, for whom they withdrew in the first place.
Elijah crouched, trembling in a cave on the holy mountain. A hurricane passed through, snapping trees and cracking rocks. But God was not in the wind.
An earthquake shook the mountain and his bones. But God was not in the rumbling earthquake.
A fire razed the oaks and cedars, dispersing all living things but Elijah, frozen in the heat. But God was not in the moaning, popping fire.
Then he sensed an invitation and stepped out into the smoky stillness. The voice of God came in sheer silence. It commissioned him to carry on the wild work of prophecy and issued a promise that he would find a friend to carry it on after him. And so he did, and so it was (see 1 Kings 19).
And so it is with silence offered in the name of God.
Your Inner Voice of Love
Posts in the Wounded Healers Blog are messages of gentle encouragement I give to myself and offer to you as messages you may adopt for yourself. For further context, visit the home page.