I began the series of questioning again.
God took in all the queries I threw at Him, me being His frantic interviewer. Most of them weren’t new; I ask a lot of things over and over again, common ones being “Why?” and “When will this ever end?”; provoked by my utmost impatience, I always demanded Him for an answer. I do most of the talking until I run out of things to say.
And yet no thunder or ray of light would appear from the sky, just like how the miracle stories were written in the Scriptures by our forefathers; not even a voice would speak to me to let me know I was conversing with someone. God would remain silent, calm and stillness being His nature. And only the mute walls and the lingering silence of the room and my emotions coming to a demise seemed to keep me company.
There was no one else around, but I knew I wasn’t alone. I never was.
Originally posted at http://www.teckler.com/en/Irenewrites/Quieted-181309