Lord,Hear My Voice

DEAR GOD,

I’m spiraling. I’m floating. I’m spinning. I’m losing sight of you and your love in my life. I keep trying to stay focused on the person I’m supposed to be, the person you’ve created me to be, but right now I just feel so lost.

I need your help.

I don’t know when this all began—the feeling of separation from you, the fear, the exhaustion, the struggle to just get out of bed in the morning, the hopelessness when it comes to my purpose, my place in the universe. I used to be so put together. I used to get up and feel like I was on top of the world. I used to exude confidence, self-assurance, security because I knew I was on the right track.

I used to feel your presence in my every movement; I was so determined, maybe even a little prideful because I felt like I was doing all I was supposed to be doing.

And now I’m just sitting here, staring out the window, wondering how to conjure up those feelings again, wondering if I’m too far gone for you to bring me back to you.

But that’s silly isn’t it? Silly for me to doubt in the moment I need you the most. Silly to think that for a second you’d abandon me, even though my existence is so small in the big scheme of things. Because you haven’t. Because you won’t.

You’ve been here for me, countless times before. Every moment I questioned your presence, you brought something into my life that showed me I was never alone. Every second I found myself slipping, you put your arms around me and pulled me back into your grace.

So why is it that now I’m doubting again?

God, I need a reminder of who I am and where I’m going. I need a reminder of who you are and have always been. I need a reminder of the powerful, loving Savior I serve and the incredible things He’s forever doing in the lives of those who follow Him.

I know I’m being foolish, letting my human insecurities and fears cloud my mind. I know I’m being foolish, thinking that I’m so far away from your light I won’t be able to find my way back. I know I’m being foolish, thinking that you don’t love me or that I’m lost and will never be found.

It’s just so hard when the rest of the world keeps spinning—no matter what I try to do, I always feel three steps behind.

But you remind me that what the rest of the world is doing is not of my concern. I don’t need to measure up, to fit, to be ‘on track’ by human standards; I need to be right where you want me to be. I am right where you want me to be. And I need to trust that you’re in control, leading me through this season of doubt.

I need to trust that you are my God, and no matter what I’m feeling on the inside, no matter what’s happening around me, no matter how hopeless or lost I feel, you’re here with me. And you’re not going anywhere.

So please calm my heart. Give me deep breaths and clear thoughts. When I start to worry, remind me of your word. When I start to question, show me answers and the will to keep moving, even if I feel at a standstill.

Bring me light when I’m in darkness and a path to follow when I feel like I’m wandering in circles. When doors close in front of me, give me new ones to open. When people walk away, give me courage to seek out relationships that both build me, and honor you.

When I don’t know who I am anymore, tell me that I am yours.

And in this crazy world, that’s all I want to be.

Please remind me, each time that I forget.

AMEN.

SILENCE

Silence is difficult, an intimation of the end, the graveyard of fixed identities. Real silence puts any present understanding to shame; orphans us from certainty; leads us beyond the well known and accepted reality and confronts us with the unknown and previously unacceptable conversation about to break in upon our lives. Silence does not end skepticism but makes it irrelevant. Belief or unbelief or any previously rehearsed story meets the wind in the trees, the distant horn in the busy harbor, or the watching eye and listening ear of a puzzled loved one.

In silence, essence speaks to us of essence itself and asks for a kind of unilateral disarmament, our own essential nature slowly emerging as the defended periphery atomizes and falls apart. As the busy edge dissolves we begin to join the conversation through the portal of a present unknowing, robust vulnerability, revealing in the way we listen, a different ear, a more perceptive eye, an imagination refusing to come too early to a conclusion, and belonging to a different person than the one who first entered the quiet.

Out of the quiet emerges the sheer incarnational presence of the world, a presence that seems to demand a moving internal symmetry in the one breathing and listening equal to its own breathing listening elemental powers.

To become deeply silent is not to become still, but to become tidal and seasonal, a coming and going that has its own inimitable, essential character, a story not fully told, like the background of the sea, or the rain falling or the river going on, out of sight, out of our lives. Reality met on its own terms demands absolute presence, and absolute giving away, an ability to live on equal terms with the fleeting and the eternal, the hardly touchable and the fully possible, a full bodily appearance and disappearance, a rested giving in and giving up; another identity braver more generous; more silent and more here than the one looking hungrily for an easy, unearned answer.”

David Whyte ~ ‘SILENCE’ From CONSOLATIONS: The Solace, Nourishment and Underlying Meaning of Everyday Words.