Grief doesn’t always roar.

Sometimes it shows up in the stillness.
In the sound that used to be laughter.
In the conversations that no longer happen.
In the void after a phone call that will never come again.
Grief has a way of muting the world—not in volume, but in meaning. It causes even the most familiar places, routines, and faces to feel like echoes of another lifetime.
When the World Moves On Too Quickly
In the aftermath of a loss, the silence can feel deafening. Not because there’s no noise, but because the noise that once mattered has ceased. People move on. Life resumes. But for you, time stands still in an invisible pause. You’re still holding the memory like a fragile package, wondering why everyone else is no longer walking on eggshells.
You may not be asking for pity—but silence, for you, feels sacred. And yet, it can feel like exile when those around you fail to understand that you’re still grieving, still healing, still trying to breathe through a pain they can’t see.
The Unspoken Conversations
There are so many things you want to say—but don’t.
So many memories you want to share—but can’t.
So many emotions you feel—but struggle to name.
Grief can mute your voice, not because you have nothing to say, but because the weight of what you feel is too heavy for words. And the fear that others will minimize or misunderstand only deepens the silence.
But know this: silence is not weakness. It is a language of its own.
Listening in the Silence
In the stillness, grief speaks. It doesn’t always need to be articulated to be honored. Sometimes the most powerful healing begins when you give yourself permission to feel without having to explain, narrate, or justify.
Silence gives space for remembering. For listening to your own soul. For honoring what was, without demanding resolution.
And in those moments, God can meet you—not with noise, but with presence. Not with answers, but with comfort. Not with explanations, but with understanding.
You’re Not Alone in the Quiet
If you’re in a season where the silence is louder than the comfort, know this: many others have sat where you are. Many are still there. And even though it feels lonely, your silence is not a void—it’s a sacred space where healing is forming, where memories are kept safe, and where your soul is learning a new way to live.
You don’t have to fill the silence. You don’t have to perform healing. You simply have to keep breathing, and trust that even in the quiet, love still speaks.
Selah Moment with Dr. Althea Winifred
