Usually, it’s not as loud as a whisper. Yes, there have been occasions when His voice is clear and sharp, as when He told me, “You were happy once. You will be happy again.” But that’s rare. Usually, there’s a wisp of feeling, a slight tingle, a tug, a passing thought.
Often it’s like the day I felt pulled to take a different route as I walked to the supermarket. “I like this way better,” I told God and continued on my original path. Then the squirrel darted in front of me. We both stopped. I waited for it to dart back into the garden from whence it had come. It quickly turned it’s head in all directions and darted into the street where it was hit by a car and killed.
“If only I had listened,” I mournfully told God. “I wouldn’t have seen it die, wouldn’t have startled the squirrel. Maybe it would still be alive.
It’s easy to ask God for what I want. More work is required when He speaks to me. I must take Him seriously. I must accept that even when it doesn’t seem to matter, if He’s pulling me one way, it matters. I must be humble enough to give way to the small whispers and tugs and tingles. I must be trusting enough to remember that, at times, God will shield me from witnessing the death of a squirrel because He’s not out to expose me to horrors and He cares for all of His creation.
Every Friday,100s of bloggers set a timer, write for 5 minutes, and then publish the results. We don’t edit or engulf ourselves in concerns about whether our writing is worthy to be seen. We expose our incomplete, unpolished thoughts and words to each other and our readers. Our new home is at Kate Motaung’s blog, Heading Home. She provides a prompt on Thursday evening and we all link our posts there and tweet them with the hashtag #FMFParty. Join us.