The last month has been a tiresome one. It has been four weeks now since my last word from God; I feel out of place and terribly lonely. I am used to quite a bit of conversation with HS (Holy Spirit) on a daily basis, His voice always clear and constant.
When I first noticed the eerie silence, I felt I must have done something wrong, some sin somewhere had hidden His voice. But after heart searching and praying, I realized it was not on account of error, but simply silence for silence sake. Within a few days my nerves were shot, I felt like someone had died, His presence was there, but not His voice. During this time Ben left for a week’s mountain flying course in
One evening, while driving to dinner at a friend’s house, my Dad called and told me my Grandfather was not doing well and was very ill. I pulled to the side of the road, unable to drive I began sweating and was sick. Later that evening, as I lay on my friend’s bed I asked HS to speak to me, after more than an hour, there was nothing, no spoken word, only silence.
Last Sunday evening, during small group I shared how dejected I felt. After, as I was checking my e-mail, I came across a message from a West African friend whom I have not heard from in many months. His opening line was, “Silence is not forgetting.” Those four words have made all the difference, I wrote them with huge letters on the white board above our computer desk and find myself reflecting on them throughout the day. I realize now that it is not my right to hear HS speak to me and the fact that I have for such a long time is a blessing and a gift. My heart is right and there is no guilt or condemnation for me, after all, none of this life is really about me and what I want anyways.