I know I’ve been quiet lately—here in this space.
There’s no singular reason, but rather it’s been the spinning plates or the different hats or whatever metaphor you want to give to the busy-ness of a teacher-mom running fast.
While a full life is good, and I wouldn’t want it any other way, it sometimes sucks the creativity right out of me. Despite my silence here, I’ve been thinking about how God and I communicate.
It’s not always a neatly-tied-in-a-ribbon package of greatness.
There’s this quote that floats around. I’m not really a fan.
Something about the teacher being silent during the test, and how that’s like God when we’re tested with the struggles of life.
I guess, as a teacher, the reason the statement feels a bit like sand in my shoe, is because I’m not always quiet when my students are testing. Especially when a student asks for help. While I may not give them the answer, I don’t ignore them. I’m not silent. Instead, I work to guide them, whispering to them at their desk.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how I talk to God. How He speaks to me. All of those things.
A few months ago I lost my voice which is not the best scenario for a teacher of juniors and seniors. Throughout the day I could barely croak out a whisper, but my students were incredible. After they stopped laughing at me (because really, who wouldn’t?), they all became quiet.
They were intent on listening. Hearing my whispered voice.
Now. Their quietness wasn’t what I found strange. I expected it because teaching 101 tells you the better response from a classroom occurs when you lower your voice, not raise it.
What was strange to me was that they whispered back.
Time and time again my students responded in small, quiet voices and not because they were trying to be funny. Except for a few, their natural response to my hushed words was a whisper.
They whispered back.
This is where I have my communication with God all wrong.
I’m not proud of it, but I’m a tantrum thrower. My first reaction to anything straying from The Plan is anger and frustration and finger pointing and fist shaking toward Heaven. I pitch a fit, fussing at my Creator.
I don’t react well to any test or struggle. I don’t guess many do.
I don’t ask God questions in whispered words so I can hear His still small voice. Instead, I’m stomping my feet, yelling about the unfair problem on page three.
I allow panic and fear to take over when I’m facing the struggles of this life. I allow anger to bubble up when I don’t understand why bad things happen. I allow frustration to drown out any chance of hearing my Teacher’s voice.
But I don’t want to stay this way.
Here is what I want to learn—I want to learn to whisper my heart to my Daddy-God. I want to learn how to not shake my fist but to feel the quake in my soul that comes with Holy Communion.
I want a heart that quietly approaches the throne of God with my questions and struggles and tests instead of storming the gates of Heaven which will leave me battle weary and bruised.
God’s voice can be loud and clear. But most frequent in my life, it is still and small. It breathes a gentle wind into my soul.
Is God quiet during our tests? Maybe. Sometimes.
And is it oaky to come to Him with our questions and our anguished hearts? Yes.
But more often? I think I just can’t hear Him because I’m too busy screaming my questions instead of whispering them.
I’m drowning out the voice of God with my loud words.
I learn to learn to whisper back.
Whispered prayers prepare our hearts for His still, small voice.