When silence is golden

20 February 2022

Simply being there for friends can speak louder than words

Words Dean Simpson 

It was one of those phone calls you get when the world suddenly stands still, and nothing else matters. 

At first, I thought no one else was on the other end of the line; then I recognised the voice of my best friend, Mark. He was sobbing. Why was he sobbing? Then my heart sank. It was the day his wife Rachel was going into hospital to give birth to their first child. Oh no, I thought. No. 

“Rachel’s okay but … but the baby died.” It was all he could get out before he went quiet. Seconds passed, and I couldn’t think of anything to say. Mark spoke again. “Can you and Anne come to the hospital? We need you to come up.” 

My wife and I dropped everything and went. We had only known Mark and his wife Rachel for about three years. We met them on one of the first weeks we went to church after moving to Brisbane. They invited us to join their Bible study group, and a friendship blossomed to the point where we were now also spending most weekends together. 

Both my wife and Rachel had fallen pregnant around the same time, and that had brought the four of us closer as we journeyed through the trimesters. It was a happy time. 

And now, here we were, heading to the hospital to console our best friends. 

Our minds raced with all the things we would need to say. We’d never faced this situation before. We had been in ministry together for several years, so we ought to know what to do, what to say, how to proceed in this devastating situation. 

In the car outside the hospital, we both admitted to each other that we felt helpless. So, we prayed. A peace came over us, and then a Bible verse came to mind. 

The hospital room was low-lit and sombre. No words were exchanged as we hugged. Then we sat in silence. The only sound from the room over the next hour was the occasional sob or a deep anguished sigh. But there was silence. Not a crushing silence … more a deep silence that only God could orchestrate as he ministered to the four of us. The best way to describe it was that God was in that room 

too, and his love enveloped us during those anguished but precious 60 minutes. 

Then my wife and I silently left. 

Years later, Mark gave his testimony in church and recalled that moment. Amid the emotionally tumultuous weeks that followed that awful day, the greatest comfort he said, was friends sitting with him and his wife in silence. 

In the Bible, there’s a verse from Ecclesiastes chapter three, verse seven, that says, “There is a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak.” 

This was the verse God gave to us before we entered the hospital. God knew this is what Mark and Rachel needed at the lowest point in their lives … because no words could possibly comfort them. 

Salvos have often been said to offer a ‘ministry of presence’, especially during times of crisis. This ‘ministry of presence’ calls for all sorts of responses – a listening ear, a cup of tea, a hug or words of comfort. But sometimes, it’s just sitting and ‘being there’ for friends in need. And silence can indeed be golden. 

Names have been changed for privacy. 

Dean Simpson is a member of The Salvation Army Australia Communications team.