Dear God,
If I never hear from you again, then I am going to assume that you have said all you ever wanted or needed to say to me. I will assume that you have given me enough to go on for the rest of my life. I will remember what you have said in the past and know that those words, those promptings, those signs were all I ever needed.
I remember that you spoke to me through the waterfall that hot summer day. I remember that you confronted my idolatry that hot summer night. I remember you said YES when I asked you to show me how I don't love you - even though I didn't know what I was getting into. I remember you gave me dreams of clarity when my church blew up.
I know you always speak through the Bible and there is much for me to hear there. I will still read and study. I know that nature is your voice in full color. I will still look and listen and find wonder. I know that every broken, wounded, saddened, hopeless, helpless, hungry, sick, and dying soul is you. I will do my best to love you. I know that everything I have is something you left for me to pick up and use. I will use that stuff with all of my wisdom (and could I get a little more of that wisdom by the way?).
It just seems like I don't hear from you like I used to. That's OK. I believe you know what you're doing. If you've got something to say to me, I doubt you'll keep it from me. I'll keep on talking to you as best as I can. And I am going to keep listening, even if you are quiet the rest of my life. I will trust the Bible, nature, brokeness, and wisdom are your voice when I can't hear it any other way.
I want you to know that today I rest comfortably in your silence. Maybe that comfort is your voice.
I love you.
4 comments:
precious. makes me think of "dark night of the soul"
Ditto
The Silence of God
Words and Music 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
The Silence of God
Words and Music 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
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