Rebuild In Silence Quotes

Even the things that look broken beyond repair have a chance at being whole again. It just depends how much you want to rebuild it.

The point of a fairy tale is never in the details. The point is that it's easy to remember, to carry, to tell. We'll continue telling until the stones fall down, and then we'll rebuild and start again.

Even the things that look broken beyond repair have a chance at being whole again. It just depends how much you want to rebuild it.

Whether it’s your relationship with your spouse or Guru or God, trust is the root. It can only be watered by spending silent time together. Talking is like watering the leaves. When trust dries up, everything you say will be misunderstood and all the sweet talks you have had in the past will only cause pain and tears. They can’t build or rebuild trust.

The softly flowing, white, and parched clouds passed by. I, colored gray, merely kept staring at them as they slowly vanished out of my sight. Onto the sand castle that I'm building from the stars I've been collecting, my faint prayer spills and drips down, as the ocean waves lying in waiting sweep and trip you up. a world of darkness. a world of silence. Although my disappearing prayer is being stirred up by the wind, I will not let that fire go out. No matter how many times I rebuild the sand castle with my frosting hands tangled up in busyness, the ocean waves lying in waiting just keep sweeping it away... ...towards you.

Look at you.” I gestured toward him, for he could not disguise his pain, nor hide the fever that brought beads of sweat to his forehead. “You did this to yourself, Steldor. You punished yourself with your actions, but nothing else was accomplished. You just wanted to be a martyr.” “What’s wrong with that?” he shot back. “You want to be a saint! You want to be the one who brings peace to these people. You’re the one who brought war, Alera. You’re the reason Narian didn’t leave for good when he fled Hytanica. He loves you, and that’s why--” He stopped talking, unable to make himself complete that sentence. “You’re right about one thing,” I whispered in the dead silence. “Narian loves me, but what you won’t acknowledge is that he’s the reason any of us still have our lives. He’s the reason you weren’t killed for that show you put on.” “Extend my thanks,” he said, tone laden with sarcasm. I threw up my hands. “This is pointless, us dancing around in circles. You still won’t listen to anyone, let alone me. I may as well go.” “But you won’t--you aren’t yet ready to leave.” I didn’t move, hating that he knew my threat had been empty, and he stood. He drew closer to me until I could feel the heat radiating from his body. “Hytanica and Cokyri will always be different worlds, Alera. Before this is over, one of those worlds will be destroyed. We can’t coexist like this.” “Not when people like you refuse to believe any different.” “At least I’m not hiding from the truth. You’re so wrapped up in Narian that you can’t see the situation for what it really is. Cokyri is a godless, brutal, warrior empire that despises the very way we live. Now that they are in power, they have no need to honor our traditions or tolerate our beliefs. Don’t you see, it’s not just the Kingdom of Hytanica that will no longer exist. It is our entire way of life.” I stared at him, shocked and confused. Narian and I had always been able to work through our differences, so I had assumed our countries could, as well. But he and I wanted to be together, we wanted to be joined. Our countries did not. “Cokyri is interested only in obtaining certain things from us,” I argued, although a bit of doubt now nagged at me. “As long as we follow their regulations, we can live in the manner we always have.” “Then I’d keep an eye on their regulations, Alera. They’re already changing our educational system, what we are permitted to teach our sons. Religion will come next.” “Change isn’t necessarily all bad.” “It is when it’s forced down your throat. And in case you haven’t notice, the Cokyrians overseeing the work crews have not allowed us to rebuild our churches. They have been reconstructed, but for different, more practical purposes. The Cokyrians are quite enamored with practicality.” Not knowing what else to say, I turned to depart, only to feel his hand on my arm. “It doesn’t have to be like this, Alera. Between us, I mean.” He was looking at me with those dark, intense, fiery eyes--eyes that held love I had never reciprocated. “Things are what they are, Steldor,” I replied, decisive but desolate. “We’re separated by too much. We always have been. Just please, give yourself time to get well.” Before he could stop me a second time, I stepped out the door, feeling the weight of frustration lifting from my shoulders with each step I took away from him. I had been foolish to think he and I could communicate in spite of our differing beliefs. Neither of us wanted to cause the other pain, but that was all we had ever been good at doing.

The silence of the biblical writings about the Edomite deity provides circumstantial evidence for its identification with Yahweh. Further indications strengthen this claim. First, Edom is qualified as 'the land of wisdom' in Jer. 49.7 and Obadiah 8. In a monotheistic context, it is difficult to assume that wisdom would have a source other than Yahweh. Furthermore, it seems that the book of Job, the main 'wisdom book' of the Bible, has an Edomite origin, thus strengthening the linkage between Edom and Yahweh. Second, the worship of Yahweh in Edom is explicitly mentioned in Isa. 21.11 ('One is calling to me [Yahweh] from Seir'), and the duty of Yahweh in regard to his Edomite worshippers is stressed by Jer. 49.11 ('Leave [Edom] your orphans, I [Yahweh] will keep them alive; and let your widows trust in me'). Third, according to the book of Exodus, Esau-Edom and not Jacob-Israel had to inherit Yahweh's benediction from Isaac (Exod. 27.2-4). This suggests that, before emergence of the Israelites alliance, Esau was the 'legitimate trustee' of the Yahwistic traditions. [Fourth]: The Israelite nazirim (the men self-consecrated to Yahweh in Israel) are compared by Jeremiah to the Edomites: 'For thus says the LORD: If those [the Israelite nazirim] who do not deserve to drink the cup still have to drink it, shall you [Edom] be the one to go unpunished? You shall not go unpunished; you must drink it.' Such a parallel between the elite of the Israelite worshippers (nazirim) and the Edomite people as a whole also suggests that Edom was the first 'land of Yahweh'. [Fifth]: The primacy of Edom did not disappear quickly from the Israelite collective memory. This point is clearly stressed by Amos (9.11-12): 'On that day I will raise up the booth of David that is fallen, and repair its breaches and raise up its ruins, and rebuild it as in the days of old; in order that they may possess the remnant of Edom...' Together, these five points suggest the conclusion that Yahweh was truly the main (if not the only) deity worshipped in Edom. In this case, it is likely that (1) the name of Yahweh was not used publicly in Edom, and (2) 'Qos' was an Edomite epithet for Yahweh rather than an autonomous deity. (pp. 391-392) from 'Yahweh, the Canaanite God of Metallurgy?', JSOT 33.4 (2009): 387-404

When I was 20 years old, I learned how much art can mean to people. I worked as a camp counselor for developmentally disabled youth and adults in the redwood forest near Santa Cruz, California. It was mostly for children with heavy autism-spectrum disorders and related conditions. There was a kid there, about 11 years old. He was fidgety, nervous, but generally happy and liked to play and explore. His nickname was "Crossing Lights" because every few seconds, he would become terribly uneasy and start saying "crossing lights...crossing lights PLEASE... CROSSING LIGHTS...PLEASE!!", screaming and crying to the point where he would be having a full mental meltdown. The only way to ease his distress was to draw a series of little symbols like this: (image shown) ...over and over again, constantly, and forever. If you stopped, he would gradually become disturbed and have a severe psychological attack. But if you kept drawing the little symbol, he was calm and peaceful, like a wave washing over him. Silence. Then, a few seconds later.. "Crossing lights... Crossing lights please..." I filled up probably thirty sheets of paper like this. Tragically, the entire camp was burnt down last year in the California wildfires. I am working on a fundraiser to help them rebuild everything.

It’s okay to be sad. You won’t be sad a week from now. I love you, and you are doing your best,” she said, and I knew she was right. I leaned back into her belly. I could almost feel it pushing back against me, a solid pressure, telling me I was not alone. She silenced my mother’s voice in my head. Excised her not just in body but in mind. She did it because, as my third parent, that is her right. — Self-parenting exercises taught me to slowly rebuild healthy self-talk. But it must be said: Even though I know reparenting has helped dozens of my friends and acquaintances, almost everyone has told me it’s exhausting.

Eerie silence spread over the jungle following the machine-gun firing. The jungle was holding its breath. The monkeys, birds, even the cicadas, stopped their endless chattering and calling for several moments. Chuba sat rigid, his fists clenched, as fear tore at his nerves. Biff! What had happened to his friend Biff? What could he do? What was there to do? The questions whirled in his head. No sensible answers came. If he went back down the trail toward the river, he might run into the guards, still prowling, ready to let loose their deadly spray of bullets at the slightest strange sound or movement. But what about Biff? Had those shots been directed at him? And had they reached him? Chuba shuddered at the thought. After waiting as long as his worried mind would permit him, Chuba decided to investigate. On his stomach, he wormed his way toward the path. At the edge of the brush, he stopped. For minutes he lay still, listening, listening, straining his ears to catch any sound that might warn him of the guards’ presence. "It’s all right," he told himself, trying desperately to rebuild his courage. "They’ve gone back to the clearing. It’s safe for me to explore.

Even the things that look broken beyond repair have a chance at being whole again. It just depends on how much you want to rebuild it.

Silence helps us regain spiritual perspective and discern God’s will for our lives.

I must start to build again after this long period of anguish and despair. Keep silent—and have confidence in myself.

You entered my life as quietly as the morning mist, and just as silently, you slipped away. I cherish every moment we shared, but your departure has left me broken. Now, I’ll spend the rest of my days picking up the pieces, trying to rebuild and complete myself again.