Post:
Grief doesn’t always scream.
Sometimes, it whispers.
Sometimes, it just… lingers.
I remember sitting in my living room after the services were over.
No more casseroles.
No more check-ins.
No more “How are you holding up?”
Just silence.
And it was deafening.
Not because the world was too quiet…
But because my heart was screaming behind the stillness.
This is the part no one sees.
The part after the flowers.
After the phone calls.
After everyone else has moved on.
This is where the silence gets loud.
Where grief curls up on your couch and sits beside you for days.
And yet, it’s also where God speaks.
Not in thunder.
Not in fire.
But in stillness.
He met me in the silence.
He didn’t rush me to recover.
He simply reminded me: “I’m still here.”
I’ve learned that even when it feels like no one sees the quiet pain… God does.
Even when you don’t have the words… He understands.
Even when the silence feels suffocating… He fills it with His presence.
If you’ve felt unseen in your grief, please know this:
God sees you. He hears the cries no one else hears.
He is present in the stillness, sitting with you in the silence.
Share this with someone who needs to be reminded that silence doesn’t mean absence—and that their quiet pain matters.
