God's Deafening Silence

On the threshold of change and transformation, the silence of God can sometimes be deafening.

Our God never says too much. He is perfect in that he always says just enough. In our struggles, in our desperations, we run to him pleading for answers and begging to be spared from trials. Each time we fall to his feet crying out our frustations, God nods knowingly, listens intently with patience and love, and then sits back...and is still. Why does that frustrate us more than anything? Instead of throwing out answers, he asks questions. Sometimes, he doesn't even do that. We're left in the dark, we're left without conclusion. The only conclusion we can draw is our own. Sometimes all we have in God's silence are bits and pieces of encouraging scripture, or hopefully the warmth of His Spirit. But sometimes, not even that.
Recently I was put in a situation that absolutely terrified me. It was a situation that depended on my performance. I had no idea how to carry out the task I was appointed, simple as it was. I let my fear consume me, I let my emotions grab hold of me and I was nearly throwing up in anticipation of how much I knew I was going to fail. I was praying diligently for God's answers. For the relief from the anxiety and fear. For God to fix everything for me. I've prayed for God's relief before, but this time, my plea was desperate. I prayed and I prayed and I prayed. But still, irrationally enough, I was absolutely overcome by my own fear and I had zero left in me to do what I was asked to do. But I couldn't back out of it. So, I told God that I absolutely needed him to come through because I was empty and void of anything to offer. I walk up to do my thing. I open my mouth and--to my surprise--words of eloquence flow out with nary a stutter. Everything made perfect sense and truth was flowing out of me that I never knew was inside. On top of that, the fear was zapped away.
What happened?
God moved.
Why?
I continually avoid every thing I can't control, every thing that makes me afraid, every thing that I could possibly fail at. But God works the most beautifully when we're completely emptied of everything inside of us. Because in that, his Spirit finally has room to move. To ebb and flow without getting stunted and pushed back by walls of pride, control and striving.
God knowingly lets us sit in our discomfort and ignorance. He lets us hang on the edge by a few fingers. We're screaming and shouting for an answer, for relief, for some type of solution. We feel like we are going to die. But it's in those moments that he moves the most mightily.

Surprisingly enough, this character trait of God sends me into an enamored state of warm fuzzies. What love! What pure and true love to focus on the highest good for his child. Silence, on the surface seems so awful. Like, we're being neglected. But the reality is that we're being nurtured more than we know.



Now, more than ever, I've never been so assured of his goodness or so trusting in his character.




I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. - 2 Corinthians 12:7-10