The Silence Is For You Alone

The headlights are off. The sanctuary is dark.

The music that held the room together has faded into the hum of your engine, and now there is only the silence of a parking lot and the sight of your own hands on the wheel. You wonder if the light left with the crowd.

If God can hear you now that the singing has stopped. But the light does not depend on the volume of a song.

It does not need an audience to exist. There was a woman who touched just the edge of a coat in a crushing crowd, and the light stopped everything to turn toward her.

It felt the power go out. It knew she was there before she spoke.

The silence is not an absence. It is a space being made for you alone.

The one who saw the widow drop two small coins when no one else was watching sees you in this car. He does not need the noise.

He is listening to the quiet. The music was for the many.

This silence is for the one.