faith unfaded

There was a time when I thought silence meant something was wrong.

If someone didn’t call, didn’t text, didn’t respond the way I expected, my mind would start filling in the blanks. And not with grace—with stories. Stories about distance. About disinterest. About something shifting that I hadn’t been told. Intrusive thoughts reign supreme in silence.

But recently, I had a moment that stopped me in my tracks.

I hadn’t reached out to someone in a while—not because I didn’t care, but because I felt secure. I knew they were there. Our relationship had progressed to the point that I didn’t need to check in constantly anymore.

And on the other side of that? They thought I was pulling away.

Same silence. Two completely different interpretations.

It made me think about how often we do that—how quickly we assign meaning to space that might not actually be there.

Not every pause is distance.
Not every quiet moment is a signal.
Sometimes, it’s trust.

Sometimes, it’s the comfort of knowing a relationship doesn’t have to be constantly maintained to still be intact.

It’s a confusing road to navigate sometimes. As a parent of grown children, I have to accept a relegated role as a supporting character. But I’ll still be there when the curtain goes up, even if I have no scenes.

I want to be this kind of friend as well. Not someone who needs constant reassurance, but someone who offers steady presence. Someone who doesn’t panic in the quiet, doesn’t create hurt where there isn’t any, and doesn’t keep score of who reached out last.

Because love—real love—isn’t fragile like that.

“Love always trusts…” (1 Corinthians 13:7)

It doesn’t mean we stop showing up. It doesn’t mean we stop reaching out. It just means we stop assuming the worst when there’s a little space in between.

Some of the strongest relationships in my life aren’t the ones with constant conversation. They’re the ones where we can pick up right where we left off, without question, without tension, without explanation.

That’s not distance.

That’s security.

And maybe the next time the phone is quiet, instead of writing a story that isn’t true, we let it be what it is—

A quiet reminder that not every relationship needs noise to be real.