As a baby, our granddaughter suffered from colic. Her constant, pitiful wails of anguish pierced our hearts but we had no way of appeasing the pain or silencing the cries. When she would, amazingly to us, finally fall asleep, we would lie frozen, afraid to breathe too loud in case we woke her.
I worked nights for many years, and getting to sleep wasn’t always easy, especially when someone began construction work outside your window. Frustration and annoyance would burn in me as I tossed and turned on my bed, praying for them to go on a coffee break.
What about when you feel that steady growing pain in your head? Every sound sends splinters like glass shooting through your brain, and light burns your retinas. The quiet dark of your bedroom embraces you in the promise of relief.
In these moments, silence indeed feels like a precious gift of gold to a beggar.
But what about when God seems silent?
In the terrifying moments that tick by as you wait for your child to take their next breath.
The suffocating quiet of the widow’s home as she wanders from room to room, alone.
The silence that rebounds to the prayers for help. “Knock and the door shall be opened”, but your fists feel bruised and your knuckles bleed from beating on the door.
The fatigue from sleepless nights, pacing the floor, crying out for answers or reasons.
Where is the “still small voice” you desperately need to hear? Perhaps we are filling this silence up with so much internal, emotional noise, we are drowning the voice out?
Be still and know that I am God.
Be still. Although he seems silent, he is as close as your next breath.
Pause, wait, listen.
In the silence, we pause and dwell on his Word and who he is, his character, his promises, and his sacrifice.
We wait expectantly for him to meet with us. Waiting takes time, and the removal of distractions, disciplining our mind not to wander off down rabbit holes of anxiety or fear.
Listening also takes time and focus, to quiet our mind, from our own voice and the voices of others, in order to hear his.
Our culture does not encourage silence. We are bombarded every day with pictures, voices, texts, opinions, and declarations, all saying that we are not enough and we are on our own. But they have the answer.
The LORD said to Jeremiah in chapter 29: 13-14, “You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart. I WILL be found by you,” declares the LORD, “and will bring you back from captivity.” (emphasis mine)
He has repeatedly promised to never leave us or forsake us throughout the Bible. Whether the silence seems golden or frightening, it is pregnant with his presence. Our job is to tune our ears to hear him through faith-filled hearts. He is leaning in, waiting expectantly for you to join him.
Sisters, do you find it hard to believe God knows you to every hair on your head, longs for you to the point of death, and loves you beyond all logic and imagination? He does. I know it’s hard to wrap our finite brains of dust around it, but it’s true. Our world is filled with chaos and confusion, but this much is true, you are loved. Here we can sit down, be still and soak our parched souls with his presence and listen to his life-giving words, as we open our hearts to him.
Be well!
Patricia