Waiting can seem like the hardest thing.
Sometimes it seems that there is only silence when I listen. That I am alone with my own thoughts and nothing else.
Where are you Lord? Why are you silent? How long must I wait for you to acknowledge me, to whisper in my heart?
But Lord, I also know the fickleness of my own heart. I know how quickly I would rush on if you never made me wait. You create space for us in the waiting. How else will I learn to quiet myself, to be still in your presence, to listen, to love you, if you do not make me wait?
If your speaking must always be on my terms, in my time, if I am unwilling to wait, then I am not really loving you.
There is something in the waiting, in the listening, that speaks love.
Love is patient. As you wait for me, so I wait for you.
It’s hard, there’s no denying. But there’s also hope. You love me and I am not forgotten.
Wait for the Lord;
be strong and take heart
and wait for the Lord.
This is Day 8 of the series 31 Days to Listen.
Whatever you’re facing today, may joy sneak up and surprise you.
May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.
Imaged sourced here.
[Original photo sourced here.]
Fiordland National Park is a stunningly beautiful part of New Zealand. One of the fascinating (and scary) things we learned when visiting Milford Sound was the prevalence of avalanches. There are frequent signs on the road warning drivers not to stop in the avalanche area.
And while snow avalanches and landslides are not a new concept, I discovered that there is also such a thing as a tree avalanche.
There’s not much soil on the mountain slopes and the trees are pretty much clinging to bare rock. The high volume of rain means that it is fairly common for trees to lose their grip on the sheer cliff faces, resulting in tree avalanches that tear ugly wounds in the landscape.
Could it be that life feels a little like that?
Life is stunningly beautiful, but also scary. Sometimes it seems that the difficult events, the tragedies, the crises, the overwhelming daily demands in our lives, may cause us to lose our grip and send us plummeting downward in an avalanche from which there is no return.
Is that what life feels like for you right now? Are you clinging to the side of a rock and praying desperately that you won’t be swept off?
God is whispering to you that he is your Rock. He is your fortress and your refuge.
When you cling to him, he will not let you go.