MISSING HIS VOICE

Oh! how I miss Your voice!
I miss hearing your secrets,
hearing your insights,
even your warnings!

I sit and listen again but hear nothing.
The silence echoes & reverberates...
Sometimes it mocks me.
Sometimes it tells me it will always be like this from now on -
that pain & grief deafen your senses,
mess with your mind,
dull your abilities,
darken your capacity.

I hate to admit that in part it´s true...
That is many people´s experience.
But I am clear on this:
It will not always be this way!
It is a season.
And every season passes.
And every season has its beauty.

I used to hear Him easily...
Listening was my ¨go to¨ way to experience God.
His voice met me in various experiences & places;
I find myself lost without it!

Yet like a person struck suddenly deaf,
I am slowly learning to depend on other senses to a greater degree.
I am sharpening them as I learn to use them,
learning to compensate.
And I realize that I can experience God in so many ways!
He is not limited to my diminished senses
in this time of grief.
This is part of the beauty to be discovered in this season.

Certainly God is unlimited in His ability to communicate.
I am the one who is reaching out through human limitations,
through my wounded heart & senses,
asking Him to build my awareness,
asking Him to enhance my creativity in order to connect with Him.

So I open my heart -
to taste His goodness,
to touch His hem,
to smell His perfume...
soon enough I will hear Him,
Soon enough.
For now, the others are enough...
And they are beautiful.

But oh! How I miss His voice!



SOUND OF YOUR VOICE by Steven Curtis Chapman

Photo by:  Tangent Artifact