God has seemed rather silent this week in my quiet times. It’s like that sometimes, isn’t it? And sometimes I’m content to plod along with Him in a quiet camaraderie. But His silence this week has been making me want something more, something deeper.
I’m a person of many words. Even if they’re not coming out of my mouth, they’re constantly bouncing around in my head. I thrive on ideas, figuring out puzzles, and piecing together truths. But this week, in the silence, I realized it’s not so bad for the noise to end and the words to stop. It made me want to “hear” God in a different way. To hear Him in the same way that I feel a cool breeze, the way it excites and tingles. To hear God the way I feel the heavy heat of late afternoon sun when it penetrates my skin and warms me right through. I long to hear God beyond the words. To KNOW Him!
When my soul lies like a listless puddle, I want to sense His hands gathering it and making it stand tall, like those miraculously parted waters of long ago, to defy the gravity of discouragement. When my exploded spirit feels spewed like a shaken can of soda, I wish He could suck up every last drop of it into a powerful, purposeful wave…a wave made to crash full speed on the shore of His presence.
Last night I couldn’t get to sleep, and as I looked out the window, I caught sight of a beautiful, bright first-quarter moon. The bedroom window screen was diffusing the moonlight into the perfect shape of a cross, and I wished I could capture how stunning this softly glowing “moon cross” looked. Suddenly I wanted more. I wanted to go outside and be closer to it. So I grabbed a sweater and headed out to the deck. Instantly, as I settled myself into one of our comfy zero gravity chairs and gazed at the heavens, I felt like that wave running full speed into my Father’s arms. As my eyes admired the Big Dipper and I thought about the ancient stories of the Big Bear, God gave me a gorgeous shooting star that shot right through the centre of the constellation. Something about really looking into outer space can make us feel so insignificant, almost fearful of the vastness of the universe in comparison to our smallness. But in the presence of the One who put each star in place, and who also knows the number of hairs on my head, I was strangely comforted. I think I could have spent the night out there if it hadn’t been for a pesky mosquito and my chilly bare feet. It’s a late-night date I’d like to make with the Lover of my Soul over and over again this summer!
Maybe His “silence” will help to train my eyes and ears to find Him waiting for me in places that lie beyond words. Maybe He wants me to hear the song that all creation is singing for His glory. Maybe it’s a song I can learn to sing in my soul, even without words!