We often ask God for direction and guidance; maybe even for a sign, a mile marker that we’re on the right path, the right road. We seek a ray of hope that things will get better.
Sometimes we get the answers.
The phone rings with an unexpected invite. A person walks into our life and offers us a word of wisdom, an insight that unlocks the answer to the question we were holding out to God. A simple encounter with nature inspires us, restores our hope, giving us the reassurance we were looking for.
Yet many times we hear nothing, nothing but deafening silence.
We ask, but there’s no sense of God’s reply—only silence, the Silence of God.
That’s where the rubber hits the road, where we reach the end of our faith and hope.
This God of Silence is hard to take, difficult to endure. We want answers, direction, change, growth, but we receive nothing. It’s as if we’re walking through dry land without any drop of water.
I thirst! We might snarl at God.
Where are you? We might demand of the Silent One.
The silence draws us to anger; the anger to despair; the despair invites us to go deeper inwardly, toward our Soul, clinging desperately to God, earnestly seeking someone, something to uphold us as we wait. Silently. Sometimes bitterly, asking for just the scraps even the dogs are given from the master’s table.
Learning to hope and trust in God and in ourselves are the necessary virtues we’re invited to unlock as we wait for a wellspring in the midst of our desert; as we earnestly seek any signs of spring; or maybe a text from Jesus.
The Silence of God is designed to draw us inward. After we experience our anger and hopelessness, we’re invited to relax into God. Exhausted. We’re drawn to rest in the inner quiet, which the Silence seeks.
And when we least expect it, when we were just about ready to throw in the towel, we find the answer right beneath our nose. We hear with the ears of our Soul a concrete answer to our question, a way out of our current dilemma, and come to believe once again that God is real.
Prayer to the God of Silence:
Oh God, when I am in those dark valleys of my life; when I can’t hear you, or don’t want to hear you but just want to escape and run away, give me a small taste of hope, just a droplet of water on my tongue, to endure the Silence.
And after I am done stamping my feet and waiving my fist, draw me inward. Help me see the Light within me, the Light in the midst of this darkness, knowing that I need both the Darkness and the Silence, so I can be embraced more deeply by your Wisdom and Love.
May 1, 2015