
Listening …
Sometimes it seems that the silence is deafening. There isn’t revelation, direction, not even critique. Just silence.
When will he speak, lead, direct? When will a fire be ignited in my belly? Where has my get up and go gone?
Questions I have asked, of late … of God.
It is just silent. I have been around long enough to know he is there, here, within me. I still know he has a plan and a purpose, but … it. is. so. quiet.
Erwin W. Lutzer, in his book, Getting Closer to God, wrote:
“Of course, it’s easy to trust God when the bush is burning, the waters are parting, and the mountains are shaking— it’s those silent years that are discouraging. But blessed is the person who does not interpret the silence of God as the indifference of God!”
God is not indifferent, uncaring, unconcerned. He is still working.
But, it is so quiet.
Ever been to a body of water that is so quiet, it’s surface is more like a mirror than a body of life? It is still, quiet. There are times in our lives when we long for such stillness, when noise is all around, when the waters are teaming with life, ready for the catch. When we long for things to just be still, quiet.
I hear the Psalmist say,
“Be still and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.”
I have no choice but to be still, for this is the season, yet … am I?
Worry and anxiety over that which is out of my hands, my control, can overtake my thoughts. There is no specific direction, no task at hand … and that makes me ill at ease, disquieted in my soul.
And the whisper returns,
“Be still and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.”
Not to be irreverent, but as I read this verse, over and over, I found myself coming to the conclusion that what God is saying here could be interpreted as
just trust me and hold my beer
He is reminding us that he is God, that he hold the world and all that is in it, in the palm of his hand. Just be still … that is your job, your task, your calling.
John 13:7 tells us, “You don’t understand now what I am doing, but someday you will.”
In the deafening silence it can seem as though God is not there, that he does not care, that he has no use for us. But, in these silent days and years, he calls on us to be still, to contemplate what he has done in and through us in the past, to trust our unknown future to this God who has more than proven himself in the past.
He has a plan … just keep listening in the quiet, meditating at the calm waters.
A great reminder that God is not absent in the silence. I enjoyed your post, Carole.
Thank-you!