There are moments when everyone is sleeping here. Silence permeates the walls that hold up this house. Normal, previously unnoticed sounds become prominent in my ears. Their magnification in the quiet makes me aware of their existence. How often do I tune them out, I wonder?
I often look for God to come in the fanfare of life, yet most often His voice becomes most prominent in the quiet moments. It’s easy to lose sight of that especially with the activities that abound around me. Until it all becomes too much driving me to run for my life to a solitary place where He is found waiting.
Elijah understood that. Life had brought him to desperate places. Seems Jezebel had gotten wind of his activities and was not at all pleased. She vowed to kill him within 24 hours. He ran for his life ending up next to a broom’s bush in the wilderness asking God to just go ahead and let him die. He had had enough.
An angel visited him bringing food for him to eat. He ate, drank and went back to sleep. The angel brought food a second time, this time telling him to eat for the journey had been long and hard. Elijah ate and was strengthened to embark upon a path that would take him forty days to Horeb, the mountain of God. Desperate and feeling very alone, depressed to the point of wanting life to end, Elijah entered a cave on the mountain. In the quiet of the cave, the word of the God came to him. “Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.”
A great and powerful wind tore through the mountain but God was not in the wind. After the wind came an earthquake but God was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire but God was not in the fire. After the fire came a gentle whisper, it was then the voice magnified in Elijah’s ears. In that moment he regained new strength to carry on.
The desperate, empty places awaken my desperate need for Him to come for me. It’s why I found myself sitting in the early hours of the morning.
Life’s been pretty intense here. I guess that’s to be expected when you enter the work force after 24 years. Especially in a doctor’s office where the wrong decision can cost a patient. I found myself wondering what this life was all about, anyways.
Like Elijah I let it rip.
“God, I am surprised at where I am and what I am doing. I would never in a million years have thought I would be where I am. For this time, this season I am appointed at that office. I don’t know what you are up to and how it will all work out. We have needs that must be met. I have no clue how that will happen, yet I trust you. It’s what keeps me going.”
“I sit here in the quiet listening. I want your glory to pass before me. I want to hear you in the gentle breeze.”
“In some ways it feels like the days before Christmas. There’s an anticipation of the gifts that will be opened, shared and received. I feel that expectancy here, God. We are ripe to accept what you have to give. It gives me comfort to know I cannot figure it all out. It’s up to you. There’s something in that realization that brings a sense of relief. It’s up to you, now. I feel the winds of change coming. Where will they take us, I wonder?”
In the quiet His whispers met my heart.
“You are mine and I am yours, don’t forget that.” “It matters.” “Know that I could never leave you or forsake you.” “For we are woven together as one.” “We are one flesh.” “You have all of me.” “You are as much a part of me as I am of you.” “We can never be separated.” “We are glued together.” “Where you go, I go.” “Stay alive.” “Don’t give up hope.” “I will never abandon you.” “You matter to me greatly.” “Don’t forget I moved heaven and earth to come for you.” “I will never, ever let you go.” “Your needs are ever before me.” “I am fully aware of each one.” “I will meet you there.” “Wait for me.” “Look for the gentle whispers of life.” “I am there, always there.”
The voice of God passed before me, reviving my soul, renewing my strength. I am my Beloved’s and He is mine. It is enough. I am up walking waiting to see where this path will take me, knowing fully well that I do not go alone.
©copyrighted: Julie L. Todd, 2011