Whispers in Silence

I don't know about you, but I wish God had a megaphone.

Or an air horn.

Or a flare gun.

Or one of those big cone things that cheerleaders yell into the stadium with.

The last thing I want to hear when I'm reaching out to God for answers is silence. Silence is deafening. Silence leads us to doubt. Silence leads us to question the One who is calling the shots. But what we have to understand is that our humanity limits our reasoning.

I remember when I was a kid, my older brother Brandon got the training wheels taken off of his bike. I remember thinking that that defining moment of maturity and growth was just the coolest thing ever. So naturally, being the admiring, and albeit slightly jealous little sister that I was, I wanted my training wheels off too. In my four year old mind, nothing would bring me more joy or excitement or bliss than a two-wheel joy ride. My parents told me that I wasn't ready, that I wasn't old enough yet, and that removing my training wheels too early would lead to more knee scrapes than thrills. Not to anyone's surprise, I was stubborn and upset. I pouted and I gave a cold-shoulder. Even though my Dad insisted that he knew best, I was sure that I had it all figured out.

Disappointment leads us to question the One in charge. When I bring my plans to Christ, a part of me expects an immediate, loud, booming response. I would like God to type up a nice little memo, outlining exactly what He has in store for me, and deliver it approximately 1-2 business days after my submitted request. Unfortunately, God doesn't work like that. He's more of a deal-in-faith kind of guy. He challenges us to submit and to wait and when things become uncertain, to cling to our desperate need for Him.

I guess things haven't changed all that much since I was a kid. I often think that my plans would bring me joy and happiness and righteousness and eternal bliss. I still think like that four year old redhead: that I've got it figured out. But just like my Dad was looking after his overly ambitious and naive daughter, my heavenly Father continually reminds me, "Have patience, dear. I know what's best for you."

Doubt is born when our expectations meet God's silence. We've all experienced what seems like an unresponsive God. But perhaps it isn't that God is silent. Perhaps, we've been listening for the wrong answer or expecting Christ to appear on different terms. We are often wrapped up in our earthly problems, while Jesus is busy behind-the-scenes resolving our heavenly ones.

Remember that the next time you hear the silence of God. When you present your desires and hopes and dreams and future plans to Him, and you don't hear a response, don't think God isn't listening. He is. And He is answering requests you are not even making. Because even though we may be absorbed with our earthly issues, God cares so much about us that He is focusing on our eternity and working on a plan to grow and prosper us, to bring us a hope and a future in Him. So listen closer: our loving God is whispering in the silences and rejoicing in planning out our futures.