He had said that I shouldn't take this for granted, the fact that we are family and he loves me and I love Jesus.

What he meant, what I heard from the most quiet man, was that I should be quiet.  Stop talking about faith and God and Truth.

Quiet is easy for me.

I prefer quiet corners and early morning stillness and peaceful-easy-feelings.

I thrive on peace-making and not causing a stir.

But the kind of quiet he wants is a lie. The heavens declare, the rocks cry out, and the little ones, my own precious children, can't be silenced about nose-on-your-face Truth.

So it's a noisy, deafening quiet - this chasm between us. Just a shaky rope bridge of relation.

I love him with all filial affection but not with the silence he wants.  Not with stuffed glory or muted praise. I will love loud, though I cherish quiet.  I will be uncomfortable and I won't fill the chasm with feeble pleasantries.

Because, much as I love quiet, some things are worth shouting.

{This is another Five Minute Friday post, and the prompt is: Quiet.  What can you come up with in five unedited minutes? Click the link over to Lisa-Jo's and join us!}