Silence. It's one of those things that can be the most wonderful thing in the world. Or it can be the most not-wonderful thing in the world. As a mom, silence can mean your kids are peacefully sleeping, or it can mean they are getting into something. Or everything. Following moments of silence, I have found permanent marker on carpet, baby powder dumped on bathroom floors, hair "washed" in milk, a little girl with marker "makeup", and even a little boy with painted toenails. So often, we love the silence. We long for the silence. We dream about the silence. But, after the silence, we often find nothing but a mess.
I was thinking the other day about how silence factors into our relationship with God. I'm not talking about the times in life that God is silent. I'm talking about the times that God finds us "silent". I probably need to be clear: There is rarely a day that I could ever be called silent. I love to talk. But, admittedly, there have been times that I have been silent with God. There have been days that I have had a lot to say. A lot of nothing. A lot of something. And I am really good at finding friends that will listen. I call when something wonderful happens. I call when something terrible happens. I call when I just need to vent some frustrations. And I call when I just want to share a funny story. And I love that my friends answer. I love that I have dear friends in Christ that want to share my life with me. But, unfortunately, there are days that God would probably say that I've been "silent". And when I'm silent with God, there's sure to be a mess to clean up.
You see, when I don't turn to God first thing in the morning, I can make a real mess. Sometimes those messes are easy to clean up, like the baby powder. Other times, those messes can leave a permanent stain, just like the Sharpie on the carpet.
I have been the one guilty of waking up, and going straight to the computer to see what might have happened in my friends' lives while I am sleeping. I have been the one guilty of checking the weather, the news, the email, all before I read the Bible. I have been the one that scurries my kids and husband out the door to school, and then instead of taking a few moments to say "Good Morning" to God, I call my friend. And the thought of that brings me to tears.
I have...and you have...this amazing opportunity. Every single day. We get to approach the throne of the Most High God. We get to share our burdens with Him. And our joys. And our love. And our lives. But yet, so many times, I don't. When something challenging comes up, I run to search Google. I post on Facebook. I call my friends. Too often, God is the last one I turn to. Maybe it's because I want an immediate answer. Maybe it's because I don't think I'll like what He has to say. Or maybe it's just because I am sinful girl who doesn't have my priorities in order.
Two of my very favorite Bible verses are Hebrews 4:15-16. "For we do not have a high priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but One who has been tempted in all things as we are, yet without sin. Therefore let us draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need." Does that thrill you the way it does me? If not, you may want to re-read it. I'm amazed every time. We can approach God's throne....with confidence! Why in the world do we substitute everything else for His throne? We get news of a sick loved one. Approach the throne. We get an unexpected financial blessing. Approach the throne. We need to plan our day. Approach the throne. Our kids won't stop fighting. Approach the throne.
I am really good at making messes. When I cook, my kitchen looks like a war zone. Why do I think that my life will look any different if I don't bathe everything...and I mean everything...in prayer? Why do I think that if I don't search my heart to make sure that God is in the very center of every one of my desires that anything will work out right? It's just plain foolish of me. God wants us to approach Him. Daily. He doesn't want us to be silent. He wants to hear our voices cry out to Him. He wants to hear our voices rejoice in Him. And we can do all of that boldly. With confidence. Without hesitation.
And that, my dear friends, is amazing.
