Each of us, Tracy and I, held onto our friend, Sherrie’s hands. Her hands were bruised and taped from the tubes. They were pale, they were weak, and they gave us great comfort. We had come to see our friend for one last time. The hospital room was quiet. The lights were low. Just two weeks earlier, Sherrie had learned that she had cancer, now it was a matter of days before she would leave this earth.
We came to remind her of how much God loved her and how he would be faithful to the family she was leaving behind; a devoted husband of twenty-five years, a twenty-one year old son and a seventeen-year-old daughter. We wanted her to look forward to entering into the presence of God and we wanted to assure her that we would watch over her children, unconditionally, loving them.
Tracy’s tender, compassionate heart was never more evident. She looked at Sherrie, Sherrie looked at her. Their hands held on to each other and they talked. They talked about good times together and memories. They made light of their kids and situations they couldn’t control and they shared, so tenderly, a moment in time together. Then after that chatter, the talking stopped and two friends just looked at each other and smiled. For a few minutes no one said anything, they just stared at one another. Sherrie looked up at Tracy and Tracy through flowing tears locked her sweet glaze back. A thousand words were said in that silence. A thousand I love you’s, thank-you’s and I’m here for you, were whispered in the quiet. It was a thundering, powerful moment in that silence.
Sherrie went to be with the Lord just three days later. That sweet moment will be always be mine and Tracy’s favorite memory of our friend. How thankful we are that we took the time to sit on her bed, though it was so difficult to say goodbye it felt as if we had a corner of heaven folding down to meet us. In those moments of silence…when a thousand words were spoken, I learned a glorious lesson… often in the silence, God speaks to us the loudest.
