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.
Carrying Light, Not Load
Yesterday, during my Bible study on animals in Scripture, I was certain the donkey would teach me a lesson about stubbornness. After all, isn't that what donkeys are famous for? But God had something entirely different and far more beautiful in store for me.
As I studied the account of Jesus riding into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, it hit me like a thunderbolt. That little donkey wasn't chosen because of what he could carry but because of who he would carry. He wasn't meant to haul heavy burdens. He was meant to carry the Light of the World. And here's where it gets personal: we're just like that donkey.
How many times have I trudged through my days feeling like a pack mule, weighed down by worry, responsibility, and those endless "what-ifs" that plague my thoughts? I've rounded my shoulders under the weight of "should-haves" and stumbled over obligations that were never mine to bear. I've been so busy carrying the load that I forgot I was meant to carry the Light.
Fresh Mercies in the Morning Snow
Have you noticed how some of the most profound spiritual truths are hidden in the most ordinary moments? Like watching snow fall for the umpteenth time and suddenly seeing something you've never seen before?
We've been experiencing unusual weather here in mid-Wales since the start of the year. Each night we've had a snowfall, not heavy or majorly significant, but enough to wake up to a lovely blanket of snow covering the ground. The days have been very cold yet sunny, so by the end of the day, much of the snow has melted, allowing us to see the muddy pastures and the wet asphalt of our driveway again. Then, overnight, another snowfall would come and leave a blanket of snow on the ground, only to be met that day by sunshine that would melt it. This process has repeated over and over again for several days now.
A Different Kind of Weight Loss Plan
It's that time of year again. The clock struck midnight, the calendar flipped to January, and suddenly everyone's talking about their resolutions. Weight loss usually tops the charts. Gym memberships skyrocket, salad sales increase dramatically, and social media feeds fill with "new year, new me" declarations.
While physical health goals are certainly commendable (and something this poor body of mine could benefit from), statistics show that by February, about 80% of these well-intentioned resolutions will have been abandoned. The treadmills will empty, the salad containers will be pushed to the back of the fridge, and life will resume its comfortable, familiar patterns.
But what if I told you there's another kind of weight loss that might be more worth pursuing this year?
When the World Turns
This morning I woke up with a terrible case of vertigo. After having a rough weekend battling pain from my fibromyalgia, I was hoping to start the week feeling better and ready to tackle my growing to-do list. But, alas, such was not the case.
Instead, I lay in bed trying to get my world to stop spinning. Every time I shifted my head even slightly, the room whirled around me like I was trapped on some cruel amusement park ride. Tess could sense something was wrong and snuggled up closely as if to reassure me with her steady presence.
"So, I guess it's just going to be one of those days!" I mumbled, closing my eyes against the dizziness.
Have you ever felt that way? Not necessarily dealing with vertigo, but with the sensation that your entire life is spinning out of control?