2014 © Anne Rose
Does God talk to you? Is it presumptuous to think so? How do you know for sure it’s not the sauerkraut you had for dinner?
Well, sauerkraut or not, I believe He does talk to us. And it’s as real and plain as the words on this page. How do I know? He and I just met for lunch at the local diner down the street. And I didn’t notice Him being at a loss for words, either. I mean, what’s the big deal about talking to Him? Just pretend. And then when you get an answer back you won’t be pretending anymore.
You might still say, “I don’t care what you tell me, He doesn’t talk to me. I sit down and get quiet and I don’t hear a thing.”
But what do you call quiet? You can sit alone in a cave and still have the 1812 Overture blasting in your head: Oh, my, how am I going to pay the heating bill, the taxes, or tuition? And what wilI I ever do about my kids? Why, they’re next to heathens.
Let’s talk about quiet. Think of the most placid lake, perhaps Lake Tahoe, on a nearly windless day, crystal blue and so tranquil that you can hardly tell where it begins and the sky takes up. It ripples if the slightest breeze whispers across its surface. When we are quiet like this, we can hear God’s ripples in the silent stirring of our souls. Ah, such peace.
Now, picture Lake Erie during a storm. Our racing thoughts can toss us about like a little boat atop tumultuous waves, not relenting until they spit us onto the Niagara River and plunge us over the falls. No time for reflection there. All that’s left is to cry out, “Jesus, I’m going down!” It’s no exaggeration to say that this is probably the most difficult time to hear Him speak. Wouldn’t you agree that it makes sense to ask Him to breathe calm into our souls before we shoot the rapids?
In pacific waters, God’s voice impresses and uplifts us. It instills strength like the chorus of a thousand angels.
Ah, to hear Him only once in this way will change us forever.