Unspoken

Every week at Wednesday night prayer meeting, she would raise her hand and ask prayer for an "unspoken request." Every week. I never knew what it was, what was so bad that she couldn't tell us what to pray for. Every week I prayed, believing that God both heard and knew the need.

And here I am, wishing someone would pray for my "unspoken request." The one I can't talk about, because to talk about it would make the whole situation worse. To talk about it would force people to take sides. And even the people who I know know about it won't speak to me. So I sit, un-speaking, wondering if the fact that they won't speak of it means that they dismiss the validity of the claims, or if they believe them and are pulling away from me.

Maybe her unspoken request wasn't really hers to share. Or maybe it would have hurt people to share it, just like sharing mine might damage others. But silence isolates. I can't even muster the courage to raise my hand in the back of a prayer meeting and let people know there's a need I can't talk about. It's just unspoken.