When God Feels Silent
Have you ever felt like you're praying into a void? You cry out to God, begging for wisdom, direction, comfort—for anything—and all you get in return is silence. The heavens feel like brass. Your prayers seem to bounce off the ceiling and fall flat at your feet. You wonder if God has forgotten you, if He's too busy dealing with someone else's crisis, or worse yet, if He simply doesn't care.
If you're nodding your head right now, friend, I understand. I've been there. In fact, I've been there more times than I'd like to admit. There are seasons when God's voice seems so clear that I can almost audibly hear Him speaking to my heart. And then there are those dry, difficult seasons when it feels like He's packed His bags and moved to another galaxy entirely.
But here's what I'm learning: God's silence doesn't equal God's absence.
Biting Off More Than We Can Chew
Our little terrier, Tess, has quite the peculiar eating habit that never fails to make me chuckle. Despite her boundless enthusiasm for food, she's incredibly particular about portion sizes. Give her a treat that's too large, and she transforms into a whimpering wanderer, carrying the morsel from room to room like it's some great burden.
Just yesterday, Jason gave her a piece of stale muffin, and the drama began. Round and round she went, from the kitchen to the living room, then upstairs and back down again, all while making the most pitiful sounds imaginable. Finally, I took pity on her (perhaps because I just wanted some peace and quiet) and broke the treat into smaller pieces. You'd think that would solve the problem, right? But no! Our clever girl promptly scooped up all the pieces at once and started her woeful procession all over again! Crazy mutt!!!
Walking the Line of Faith
Have you ever watched a tightrope walker? It's fascinating how they maintain their balance, shifting their weight ever so slightly from one side to the other. One wrong move could spell disaster. I often feel like that tightrope walker in my spiritual life, especially when it comes to finding the balance between doing and waiting.
Just yesterday, I sat at my desk, staring at a blank document on my computer screen. I had a Bible study to prepare, several blog posts due, and ministry correspondence waiting for responses. The weight of responsibility pressed heavily on my shoulders. Should I forge ahead with my plans, or was God trying to tell me to wait? Was my drive to complete these tasks stemming from my perfectionist nature, or was it truly God's leading?
Lessons From a Midnight Mouse
I jolted awake to the sound of scratching and scampering, followed by an excited "Woof!" from our terrier, Tess. I turned on the bedside lamp, revealing our pup's intense focus on something beneath our dresser. That's when I spotted it—a tiny grey mouse darting across our bedroom floor.
Talk about a rude awakening! Living in rural Wales, backed up against sheep pastures and woodlands, I suppose we should have expected such visitors sooner. But after two years without any uninvited guests, we'd grown complacent. Now, here we were, at midnight, watching our typically sweet-natured terrier transform into a determined hunter.
Needless to say, sleep proved elusive that night. Between Tess's vigilant guard duty and my heightened awareness of every little sound, morning couldn't come soon enough.
Blind Faith: Trusting God’s Process and Timing
There are many wonderful miracles recorded in the Bible, but this one—in my mind—stands out among the others. It’s. . .well, different. When the woman with the issue of blood touched the hem of Jesus’ garment, she was immediately healed. When others sought healing, Jesus spoke, and without delay, they were healed. On other occasions, a gentle touch of the Master was all it took to drive away the illness or the demons. But on this occasion, it seems as if Jesus’ first attempt at healing was unsuccessful. Notice, I said it seems that way, but I don’t believe that at all.
Jesus is perfect in all His ways. There isn’t anything He can’t do. So, why is it—do you think—that his first touch didn’t completely heal this blind man?