For God does speak—now one way, now another—though no one perceives it.—Job 33:14 (NIV)

“Didn’t you hear them?” my husband asked when I returned from a morning walk. He was talking about the cicadas, flying insects that had invaded our section of North America. That spring, billions of them had surfaced. Seeing the swarms litter the streets and grassy areas made me think of the plague of the locust that God sent to persuade Pharaoh to let the Israelites leave Egypt (Exodus 10:4). 

I hadn’t yet heard the buzzing that morning, but later the next day, I detected some low chirping. Then the sound got louder. Finally, the racket from the crickets-on-steroids was nearly deafening—like someone was mowing the lawn. Constantly. When I went outside, I saw cicadas flying around, covering sidewalks, some dead and some alive. There was no mistaking their presence now. 

That’s sort of like how Jesus speaks to me. I sometimes ask to hear from Him when I need guidance, and there’s complete silence. Nothing, zilch, nada. Then there are times He will speak in a still, small voice, and I question if it’s really Him. The voice will start to get louder as I receive confirmation through the Bible, other people, nature, or many other creative ways the Lord uses to let me know what Jesus is saying to me. 

As I listened to the incessant clatter of the cicadas, I couldn’t help but wonder, Jesus, are You speaking to me through these annoying insects? I quieted my soul, despite the clatter, and waited to hear from Him.