Surely I’m not the only one who sometimes sits down to pray, focuses, and hears nothing? It happens. One day recently I had a revelation:
It’s not that I’m hearing nothing; what I’m hearing is silence.
There’s a difference. Silence can be a gift. It’s a resting place, a reprieve from the cacophony of my busy brain.
Then again, there’s this possibility:
It’s not that I’m hearing nothing; I’m just not hearing what I want to hear.
There are times when I’m listening for an answer to a specific question instead of just listening. Sometimes silence is God’s way of saying, “Stop. Focus on me, instead of what you think you need from me.”
And yet again, this happens:
It’s not that I’m hearing nothing; I’m getting plenty of static!
For me, the most common reason for brain noise is because I’m asking big, open-ended inquiries like “What do you want me to do?” When I replace those with simpler requests like “Show me one step to take,” the answers are easier to hear.
And finally, there is this:
It’s not that I’m hearing nothing; I’m being asked to take up the cross of not knowing the answer.
There are times God asks me to embrace uncertainty. I don’t like that much, but I do have the consolation of knowing He wants me to walk with Him each day through the unknown.
