My last blog post, from June, was about quiet. And something about how I was needing it. Anyone that ventures on to this little old blog got a whole lot of quiet from me, but that doesn’t mean that life was quiet for me. Much has happened in these many months, probably more than I am ready to dig into now. So today I’m starting by breaking my blogging silence.
Prayer has been on my mind a lot lately. Partly because our small group is reading Philip Yancey’s book called (simply), “Prayer.” But also because prayer is such a big part of my life and yet it is such a confusing and sometimes frustrating thing. There are days and weeks and months and seasons where prayer feels like I’m simply making a wish upon a star. Praying feels no more powerful than hoping.
Don’t get me wrong–God has answered, in mighty ways, some of my prayers. I have been blown away at the blessed details that God puts into His answers. He has proven Himself to be Provider, Protector, and Lover of my Soul. I’ve been thankful that many of the prayers I’ve lifted up have been answered with a “no.” There have been times when prayer has been life-changing and earth-shattering to me.
But lately prayer, though still something I do in faith and in obedience, feels empty. I feel like I am shouting, whispering, pleading, into space….into nothing. My faith journey has included times, like now, where God seems quiet. Distant. I pray for what I consider to be some pretty big things: a friend’s addiction, friends and family members battling cancer, another friend waiting on pins and needles to bring home her adopted child. I pray to what seems to be this quiet void and I secretly wonder if all these things will fall through and be unanswered because I’m praying under a glass ceiling. Are my prayers just bouncing back and falling down all around me?
I don’t fear this silence particularly, but I do wish I could crack it. Deep down, I don’t really doubt God or the fact that He is hearing my prayers. I just don’t know how it all works. I feel uncomfortable that prayer isn’t some equation that I just have to do correctly in order to get the right answer. I know how very, very small I am compared to a magnificent God. I think of God asking Job, “Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation?” Who am I to question when God chooses to be silent? Who am I to ask why He is silent for a time?
I continue to seek quiet in my soul and in my life–perhaps all that is buzzing around me is drowning out that still, small voice that I am longing to hear.