My hand sweeps passed the familiar spot. It’s fabric worn thin from repetition, growing softer with age. I trace the piping with my index finger, then my pinky. Reminiscent of times before — when outcomes were different.
Doubt tried to stop me, but my heart won today. I had to ask even if I don’t receive an answer. Even if I hadn’t braved the exposure, I’m certain my heart would have given me up anyway. There’s no hiding what it feels from Him.
I forget how many times I’ve had this seemingly one-sided conversation. How many times I’ve poured out, hoping to be filled up again. With resolution. No matter what form. God, please, I know You hear me. I need to know Your will on this one.
Silence.
This is when the enemy brings out his big guns. When he fires off things like rejection, solitude, insignificance, denial. Ah, but he forgets. Or hopes I have at least. That I’ve been here before and will never forget God has my best interest in mind. That no matter what, His glory will be revealed in His time. Not mine.
Sometimes I wonder, though, if these moments of silence happen because of me. Maybe my intentions were off. Maybe I didn’t hear the word ‘wait’. Or maybe I was asking the wrong question all along.
Regardless. This much I am certain:
I may ache, but I am not broken.
I may feel alone, but I am not abandoned.
I may feel pressed, but I am not crushed.
No matter what — He is holy.
No matter why — He is just.
No matter where — God is good.
No matter when — all the time.
So I wait. I search my heart. I keep seeking His face. I continue the conversation. And believe. It may be quiet, but I am still in the palm of His hand.
And when I don’t hear an answer right away, I think of this song. And take courage. In the holy, lonesome echo of the silence of God.
(Subscribers, click HERE to listen in)
“The Silence of God” by Andrew Peterson
It’s enough to drive a man crazy; it’ll break a man’s faith
It’s enough to make him wonder if he’s ever been sane
When he’s bleating for comfort from Thy staff and Thy rod
And the heaven’s only answer is the silence of God
It’ll shake a man’s timbers when he loses his heart
When he has to remember what broke him apart
This yoke may be easy, but this burden is not
When the crying fields are frozen by the silence of God
And if a man has got to listen to the voices of the mob
Who are reeling in the throes of all the happiness they’ve got
When they tell you all their troubles have been nailed up to that cross
Then what about the times when even followers get lost?
‘Cause we all get lost sometimes…
There’s a statue of Jesus on a monastery knoll
In the hills of Kentucky, all quiet and cold
And He’s kneeling in the garden, as silent as a Stone
All His friends are sleeping and He’s weeping all alone
And the man of all sorrows, He never forgot
What sorrow is carried by the hearts that He bought
So when the questions dissolve into the silence of God
The aching may remain, but the breaking does not
The aching may remain, but the breaking does not
In the holy, lonesome echo of the silence of God
Friends, I was going to share this last week and decided not to. But I clearly heard Him on this one. Someone needs to know they’re not alone.
I don’t know why we as Christians don’t talk about the hard times more. We make it seem like having them shows we don’t have enough faith. I’m starting to believe that’s not true. But I’ll save that for another post.
How about you? Have you been in the holy, lonesome echo before? How did it resolve? Are you in it now? How can I pray for you? I’d love to hear.
Thanks for sharing your time with me.
Simply striving,
Nikki