The Strength of Silence

We live in a world that never shuts up. From sunrise to bedtime, we’re bombarded with buzzing

phones, headline hysteria, notifications, playlists, small talk, and the ever-demanding need to

respond. The noise is constant—and not just in the air, but in our heads and hearts too.

Noise pollution isn’t just a city issue. It’s a soul issue.

We’ve become experts at filling every pause with something. And often, it’s not because we’re

curious or inspired. It’s because we’re scared—scared of the silence, scared of the pain we’ve

shoved down, scared of what might bubble up if we stop moving or mute the noise.

But here's the kicker: you can’t heal what you won’t sit with.

We think we’re protecting ourselves from pain by staying busy, staying loud, staying distracted.

But the truth is, we’re just prolonging our healing.

Silence isn’t emptiness. It’s oxygen for your nervous system. It’s peace for your spirit. It’s a

neurological breath of fresh air.

Neuroscience confirms what scripture has long known—stillness heals.

Just a few minutes of silence lowers cortisol levels, soothes the amygdala (the panic room of

the brain), and helps regenerate brain cells tied to memory and emotion. In silence, your brain

gets to exhale—and your soul gets to catch up.

And spiritually? Silence is often where God speaks the loudest. He’s not yelling over the chaos

of the world—He’s whispering in the stillness. He’s not competing with your podcast queue or

your inbox—He’s waiting in the quiet corners of your heart.

“Be still, and know that I am God”

isn’t just a poetic verse (Psalm 46:10). It’s an invitation into presence, peace, and power.

Grief Taught Me This Firsthand

After I lost my son, silence was one of the only things that didn’t feel fake. Words often fell flat.

Conversations felt forced. Most people meant well, but their attempts to comfort me felt

awkward or rushed—like they were trying to move me through something that had cracked me

open.

I’ll never forget my first day back to work.There were polite nods. Awkward stares.

“I’m so sorry for your loss” said with all the sincerity people could muster—but it still felt weird. And then… there was him. One coworker walked into my office. No words. No explanation.

He looked me straight in the eyes, walked over, and hugged me. A solid minute—no rush. Just presence. When the hug ended, he left. He said nothing. But somehow… he said everything.

That moment taught me what all the noise in the world never could: silence can carry sacred

weight. Silence can see people. It can hold pain without needing to fix it. Silence can speak

volumes without saying a word.

In a World Obsessed with Expression, Try Stillness

Everyone’s “finding their voice,

” “speaking their truth,

” and “making noise” for change. And yes,

our voices do matter. But when everyone’s speaking, reacting, and performing all at once, it’s

easy for our words to lose weight. The more we shout, the less we listen. The more we react,

the less we reflect.

Silence resets that imbalance.

It teaches us to respond, not react.

To listen, not just lob opinions.

To pause, not perform.

Even Jesus—who had the most important message in the universe—often withdrew to lonely

places to pray (Luke 5:16). He didn’t avoid the noise. He just wasn’t ruled by it.

When you practice silence, you reclaim your power. You calm your nervous system. You slow

down enough to notice your triggers, to process your grief, to discern before you engage.

Silence Isn’t Weak. It’s Wisdom.

Especially when you’re grieving—or supporting someone who is. We often feel this pressure to

say the perfect thing, to offer just the right encouragement. But sometimes the most healing

thing you can offer is just… presence. No performance. No quick fixes. Just being there.

And if you’re the one grieving? Don’t be afraid of the quiet. Let it hold you. Let God meet you

there. Let your mind slow down enough to feel what needs to be felt and release what needs to

go. Silence can heal your body.

Silence can restore your relationships.

Silence can rewire your brain.

And silence can realign your heart with heaven.

So let’s flip the script:

Don’t fear the silence.

Welcome it.

Because that’s where transformation begins.

Kelli Nielsen is a transformational coach, speaker, and the founder of Grace for Living After

Loss. She’s the author of You’re Not Crazy, You’re Grieving and creator of the

neuroscience-based Grief Relief Process—a framework that’s setting people free from the

weight of grief and helping them step into healing with power and purpose. After losing her son

and navigating life’s deepest heartbreaks, Kelli now equips others to advance through adversity

and reclaim joy. She’s known for blending faith, neuroscience, and real-life grit to help people

heal for real.

Connect with Kelli or explore resources at www.graceforlivingafterloss.com