Thursday, June 14, 2012

When God Speaks

We close our Bibles, and I slip away from the group. The creak of the door threatens to give me away.

I just have to get to the leather chair in that corner in my room. Alone. With my journal and my God.

I read over the words of Isaiah 61 again. Familiar lines I once had taped up in my cubicle. I used them to remind myself of my mission when a difficult caller came through to me. My job: to set the captive free.

That was before Rio. Before I learned how to read my Bible in a different way. Before I began to see who God is in each page, not who I need to be.

This time I pause after the first two words: The Spirit. The Forgotten God. The One who guides and counsels and speaks.

I continue, stopping at the word “anoint.” And then “preach” and “sent” and “proclaim” and “release.” So many things He does without our help. I never knew. Never saw before this day.

I scribble in my leatherbound book. Sunlight enters the room. Warm and comforting. I lean my head into the chair. Rest in that place between awake and asleep.

Then, a gentle Voice poses a quiet question, “What if you were the captive I set free?” I smile and fall asleep. Peace.


I take my seat in the back pew. I’ve been so concerned with making sure I am the supportive one. The one speaking words of life and affirmation because it seems no one else is. It’s exhausting.

I finally hand it over to God, like when Kaelyn brings me her tangled ball of necklaces to fix. She’s relieved to be done with the whole thing. Someone bigger needs to have it now.

On a Thursday, I hear Him say “Stand and fight.” And then nothing. Not for days. Weeks.

I am sure He is done with us. With me. I yell about how I had finally gotten my wish. My (safe) dream of freelancing, and it's about to be taken from me. I write out my frustrations in an e-mail to a friend. An unconventional kind of prayer I’m learning to appreciate.

Later, as I drift off to sleep, there comes a gentle Voice. The Forgotten God whom I thought had forgotten me. A quiet question. “What if I have more for you?”

More? For me? I hadn’t even considered the possibility. Didn’t know I was allowed to desire or want more. For me.

"It's okay to want more," I hear.

Just like that He speaks. And with His words I find my own voice. Steady. Ready to preach and proclaim and release.

1 comment:

Sallie said...

I absolutely LOVE this -- LOVE it (and hear echoes in my own heart). I stand with you offering the courage it takes to go for the "more" -- we need one another for that!