I had the most vivid picture of what the relationship between me and God often looks like on Sunday, and I can't get it out of my head. I've heard and seen it described a lot of ways, but never like this before.

I was having a really tough day Sunday, dealing with a lot of emotions regarding things that are going on with me and with people around me. As I've described it before, it feels like going through withdrawal. I've never been addicted to drugs and so I've never had to deal with going through that kind of withdrawal, but I've heard it described as something you just have to let pass. The feeling comes, you hurt and struggle through it, then it passes on. That's how I was feeling about my emotions on Sunday. A thought or emotion would come, and I would just have to brace myself to let it come and then pass.

During one of those moments, the clearest picture came to mind of me and God. Sometimes, when in the middle of one of these times, it's difficult to understand where He is, what He's doing. But I saw God holding me, like a baby. I was kicking and screaming and crying, wanting to be released. And He didn't say a word. He just held onto me, tightly, and let me kick and scream.
And if you think about it, it makes so much sense. I've been at the doctor's office and witnessed many times a mother holding her child like this. Babies have to get shots that hurt and they don't understand. And they don't want it. But the mother just sits there, overwhelmed with the scene, hurting and devoid of words, tears right behind her eyes. Because the baby needs it. It must have it.

Silence does not mean neglect or disappearance. Instead, I think it means an overwhelming knowledge of what must occur coupled with an overwhelming desire to keep it from happening.