I live in a noisy, crowded city. More than 10,000 people live on my street, which is barely the length of a football field.
In spite of that, it gets quiet here sometimes, so quiet you can feel it.
When it happens it’s usually early in the morning, and it’s like I have the whole city to myself. I relish these moments when the entire population agrees to give me a few minutes alone.
Of course, it may feel like I’m alone — but I know that I’m not. I know it’s just a matter of time.
Soon there will be dogs barking and TVs blaring and horns honking. The construction crew across the street will plug in their jackhammers and this city will return to its normal volume.
It would be foolish to think on a quiet morning that everything has changed forever, and that the city will be silent from now on.
our seasons of silence
It’s the same in the life of every believer. We sometimes experience God’s silence. It’s a silence that you can feel. A silence that lasts longer than a moment, longer than a morning, sometimes it seems like longer than forever.
At such times I may feel all alone, but the truth is that I’m no more alone during these “seasons of silence” than I am in when the city slips into a lull. It’s just a matter of time.
In My Utmost for His Highest, Oswald Chambers reminds us that God’s silences are actually his answers, his way of telling us that there is more to be revealed, and more to come.
For example, in the days when Lazarus became sick and in the days after his death, when Jesus was nowhere to be found, I’m sure it seemed to Lazarus’ family and friends as if silence would never end.
But it was only a matter of time, wasn’t it? He was on his way. The silence was just the setup for what Jesus was about to do.
more than sand and samba.
This city is famous for many things, samba and sandy beaches among them.
It’s also famous for a statue called Christ the Redeemer, located on a nearby mountain. For many it’s just one more tourist attraction to take in while you’re here; one more photo op for your Facebook page.
But every time I see it as I move around my neighborhood, it reminds me that he is here. When I can’t hear his voice or feel his presence, he is here. When God seems silent, I know that it means there is more to come.
Maybe it’s quiet where you are. Maybe you, too, can feel God’s silence. Keep in mind that God’s promise to Abraham is his promise to you and me, too.
“I will not leave you until I have finished giving you everything I have promised you.” (Genesis 28:15)
It’s only a matter of time.