So many times in our lives we are so uncertain about God's interest because we have so much "evidence" of His indifference that it never even occurs to us when God is looking at us and talking to us... -Erwin McManus
Listening to a Mosaic podcast last night and this quote just slapped me upside my head and nearly knocked me outta the computer chair...ok, I exaggerate, but I am serious when I say this was an "a-ha" moment.
I don't hear God NOT because He isn't talking to me, but I don't hear God because I don't really believe He WOULD talk to me.
Is it ok to say that out loud? Why doesn't anyone else say that? I want to desire the "burning bush" moment, but part of me worries what He would say. Then, there are moments that I gather up every ounce of courage I can and take a peek, only to be disappointed.
Of course, as those who know me would agree, I believe that God has spoken to me in those odd, soft proddings of my spirit. Not often. Not with complete clarity (to my liking anyway). But enough to know that He does speak.
But would He speak more if I listened more?
I get so busy in the everyday, the laundry, the cooking, the job, that I cannot hear Him...I do not take time to listen...I could not hear Him over the clamor of the needs, the squawks, the traffic...I dare not listen as I see my temper, my fear, my disorder...
He did not find me in pious silence in a candlelit sanctuary. Why do I feel shamed by the noise, both inside me and from without, that I must find sanctuary before I can hear Him?
Do I not hear Him in the wind? In the cries of my grand daughter? In the questions of my friends? In the squawks and barks of my house? In the city and people full of need? In my inadequacy?
I hear Him when I listen, not always His voice, but sometimes His breathing, or His footsteps.
He is near.
He is speaking.