For many years I had wrestled with the silence of God, expressing frustration over what seemed to be a one-sided relationship filled with atoning for my own faults responsible for that lack. I have written about this deafening silence before and about our meaning in life with or without the presence of God. Once again, I must revel in the loss of a loved one, who is still living but who is very much dead, and in reciprocated fashion, so am i.
I have learned much through my so-called tribulations and the common theme each time was that I was always alone. The presence of a God only slightly manifested in the hours of the night where I felt guilty for not speaking as though He were listening; and after attempting to speak, to “pray,” that presence is immediately lifted and replaced with an overwhelming foolishness as there has never been, and will never be, a nod to confirm I was heard.
I don't know exactly when i renounced christianity, and i still don't claim that God doesn't exist. In many ways, his absence reverberates so loudly within me that thinking of him convinces me he might be speaking back—”why are you persecuting me?”; and that small chance that it is him, i have learned to ignore in my resentment. But who exactly am i betraying and who am i disappointing? We are so adept at deluding ourselves that one might respond that satan is winning within me. And then i remember that there is nothing to be frightened of; i am alone again in my room with only the implicated presence of the world within these walls. I can wave my hand and they’ll dissipate. God is no exception.
Many years ago I had learned that bargaining was a futile exercise that could be skipped in Kübler-Ross’s stages of grief, so long as we refrain taking action from the naive idea that pleading with the air will bring about some desired outcome. In emotional distress, this can be a painful posture to maintain.
It's this moment of bargaining where you become acutely aware of your humanness and inability to control an outcome. That's okay! But don't be duped, there is no higher power to save you or give you what you want. Our tangible humanness in these moments exposes us to the desire for a higher power, like the comfort sought in a pacifier. Of the many who have bargained, how successful have their bargains been?
The Christian will posit that the man knows only what he wants, not what he needs; and this is why he must trust in God, because He has a plan—mysterious though it may be—and it includes something more beautiful and inconceivable for our future than what we could possibly want now. This is an excellent justification for years of silence that must be true only in delusion.
There is no one to hear us. No comfort to be granted unless, through our conceit, we convince ourselves that we are worthy to be tended to.
When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.
The dew of the morning
Sunk chill on my brow-
It felt like the warning
Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
And light is thy fame;
I hear thy name spoken,
And share in its shame.
They name thee before me,
A knell to mine ear;
A shudder comes o'er me-
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee,
Who knew thee so well-
Long, long I shall rue thee,
Too deeply to tell.
In secret we met-
In silence I grieve,
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee? -
With silence and tears.George Gordon Byron, 1788-1824
No one to hear you
Echoes of Philip Yancey’s Disappointment with God
It’s been quite a while since I read the book. In it, Yancey does write about his brother who lost his faith.
In addition, are you familiar with William Hazlitt?