Clumsy


It's funny.

I mean it's the peculiar and interesting type of funny funny... and the powerful silence gripping it, grips you. The Grace bluntly revealed by it is quite satisfying to the soul, but clumsy.

Usually it happens as unexpected as a bolt of lightning and equally as startling. It ushers a silence that presses its presence upon you and crushes your will to disturb it. It's peculiar how simply silence establishes its authority with it while re-establishing the authority of the spoken word by virtue of its absence.

It's a delicate, strangely elegant moment with a sharp temptation to say something but... silence says it best. It's clumsy and humbling how Grace gets revealed, shared yet still remains hidden in its silence.

It's interesting how so many dire things become, at this moment, frivolous and inconsequential. Whatever was so pressing, important or unsuitable becomes oddly, irrelevant.

It happened the other day when a friend told a story that took place a long time ago, though time had little affect on him. The story brought to life the clouds that carried the rain which warned of the thunder that echoed the lightning which shattered the silence... and revealed it in a profoundly Graceful way.

Who would have thought seeing a grown man cry could be such a wondrous thing.

Funny.