When did the world stop making noise?
It screams from the rooftops but I don’t think I can hear it anymore
The sound of my head has blocked the overwhelming.
I am me. I am struggling. I am alive. I will live another day.
There is life when the grass dies.
There is truth, among the pain.
Tomorrow is the greatest gift we have.
Don’t waste it.
Ever feel like Elijah? Elijah was one of the prophets. He accomplished so much for the Kingdom of God. In 1 Kings chapter 18, we see him have an amazing victory against the prophets of Baal in which he called down fire from heaven. He was a warrior, a conqueror, a man who clearly heard God’s voice. He was a man.
Fast forward to chapter 19 of 1 Kings, and we find this man running for his life and eventually hiding in a cave depressed and discouraged. I’ve often wondered how he went from one extreme to the other. It would seem that the man of God who just called fire from heaven would have enough trust and faith to believe that God would help him out when the Queen threatened his life. It’s so easy for us to read the story and judge isn’t it?
I think if we are completely honest with ourselves, we do the same thing. We probably haven’t called down fire from heaven lately but we have our victories. Things are going well and we believe! Then the bottom drops out and we wonder where God went. Still in those moments of weakness when we’re tired and struggling to hold on, God has not abandoned us. He still faithfully feeds and cares for us. Remember that it was there, in the dark moments for Elijah that God chose to reveal Himself to him.
“So he [Elijah] said, ‘I have been very zealous for the Lord God of hosts; for the children of Israel have forsaken Your covenant, torn down Your altars, and killed Your prophets with the sword. I alone am left; and they seek to take my life.’ Then He [The Lord] said, ‘Go out, and stand on the mountain before the Lord.’ And behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind tore into the mountains and broke the rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a still small voice.” 1 Kings 19:10-13
God can break the mountains in our lives in an instant. He can shake the earth, trample the enemy of our souls beneath us. He can do anything. But remembers, He has a reason for everything. Sometimes, he’s not in the earthquake or the fire. Sometimes, he’s the still small voice reminding us that He’s in control and we just need to trust Him. The best part is, His still small voice is still bigger and louder than any other if we choose to listen.
Photo by Rachel Woodland (my amazing daughter)
Most days I write about good things, the passions of the soul, the deep longing for a savior and the glorious news that we have one. I write about joy and life and beauty. Then there are days when familiar monsters try to reappear and torment my heart. The most infamous carries a message he’s repeated in my ear for as long as I can remember, “You’re not good enough”. The smallest of criticisms can cause the sulfurous vapors breathed from his lips to sting my senses until I’m wasted and fighting to hold the tears inside a little longer.
Sometimes it builds, brick upon brick, cut upon comment, and little disapproval upon condescending stare, until the weight is more than my pretense can handle and I collapse. Sometimes the dam breaks early before my imposter smile can react.
Some days, I can wring the neck of the beast the moment he appears. My shield in place, I fight off every effort to discourage and hold my head high, knowing that I am called lovely and nothing else matters. I wish I could say I am victorious every time. I cannot. What I can say is that, in my head, I know he’s a liar. It may take a little time for heart and head to connect, but I will continue holding on and fighting harder each time I hear his raspy little voice until the voice becomes a whisper and eventually no more than a memory, a testimony of another battle won. It’s at least a step in the right direction.