![]() Ever had that friend who tries to fill every quiet moment with chatter? You know, the one who treats silence like it's a horror movie villain? (Spoiler alert: in grief support, silence is more like the unsung superhero.) Let's talk about the art of keeping quiet or as I like to call it, "How to Not Fill the Air with Words When Someone's Heart is Already Full." Picture this: You're sitting with a friend who's just experienced a loss. Your brain is frantically scrolling through its internal Rolodex of "Things People Say in Sad Movies." Meanwhile, your friend is sitting there, tissues in hand, in complete silence. And you know what? That's perfectly okay! In fact, it might be exactly what they need. Why Silence is Golden (And Not Just Because You're Tired of Talking):
The Ministry of Presence (AKA How to Be There Without Using Your Words):
When to Break the Silence:
Remember: Silence isn't awkward unless we make it awkward. Think of it like a warm blanket – sometimes the most comforting thing is just wrapping yourself in it and being still. Fun fact: Research shows that humans get uncomfortable with silence after just 4 seconds. But guess what? We're not here for our comfort, we're here for theirs. So let's practice being comfortable with the uncomfortable. Think of it as emotional yoga, minus the stretchy pants. Pro Tip: If you feel the urgent need to fill the silence, try:
Remember: Sometimes the most profound ministry happens in the spaces between words. And if all else fails, just channel your inner mime (minus the face paint and invisible box routine).
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AuthorAbout Rev. Dr. Erin Marie Burns (But please, just call me Erin!) I’m a pastor, writer, and professional "showing-upper" when life gets messy. Around here, we talk about grief, faith, hope, and how to care for people when words just aren’t enough—because let’s face it, sometimes life hands us more questions than answers (and that's okay). I believe in the holy power of just being there, that coffee should basically count as a spiritual practice, and that God shows up in the small, quiet moments—like a kind text, a shared silence, or a garden full of stubbornly beautiful dahlias. When I’m not writing or walking alongside folks in hard seasons, you’ll probably find me: Attempting to tame my garden (the weeds usually win). Practicing archery like I’m training for a medieval adventure. Chasing family time, deep conversations, and maybe a slice of pie. If you’re looking for real talk, a little humor, and gentle reminders that you don’t have to fix everything—you’ve found your spot. Pull up a chair, grab a mug of something warm, and stick around. We’re in this together. P.S. Come back next week—grief, faith, and hope aren’t one-time conversations! Archives
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