There are real life moments of helplessness when we wonder why God is slow to respond to the difficulties in the lives of loved ones. Times when it seems God is silent when we need him to intervene in situations beyond our control. When life isn’t fair, we wonder where are the loving, healing, miracles we so greatly desire. This past week I have been touched by terrible news from friends and wish I could respond with the perfect words or answers that would bring comfort and hope … but feel just as helpless as they. When we pray for a dramatic miraculous healing or a powerful sign of God’s presence and instead are overwhelmed with the silence of our own fears we wonder why God seems so far away.
On our Alaskan cruise we expected to see whales spouting mist or flapping massive tales against the waves in dramatic displays of power. And we saw not a one. We hoped to see killer whales throwing themselves out of the water in their chase of seals or salmon and all we saw was mile after mile of empty ocean. On the last day, Roxanne was standing at the balcony of our cabin on the ship and shouted that she saw the fins of killer whales in the distance. She had been patiently waiting and so was able to see what I never would have seen. I grabbed my camera and tried to photograph what seemed indistinct and yet different. When I enlarged the photos, I realized she was right and there were indeed fins in the waves. We couldn’t see much else, but they were there. It was amazing how that little assurance felt like a victory and we could say we saw what we had sailed so far to see. Life is like that sometimes.
Faith assures us God is present and loving and Jesus’ promises are taken to heart but are often not enough when our vision isn’t as clear as we would like it to be. 1 Kings 19 comes to mind as the prophet Elijah was hiding in a cave on the side of Mount Sinai, fearing for his life. He had done all God asked but feared for his life and wondered why God didn’t rescue him in a mighty display of power. There was a whirlwind, then an earthquake, and then an incredible firestorm but he couldn’t hear or see God. But then he was surprised to hear God in the sound of a soft whisper and heard what he needed to hear.
So often we want to control how God should act but need to be silent and patient and allow God to be God in his own way and time. Faith is the patience that allows us to finally see that God has been present all along. On the cruise we were undoubtedly surrounded daily by sea creatures just beneath the surface of the waters and when we least expected and had given up hope, there was a glimpse that served its purpose and gave us a sense of victory and peace. Sometimes we want to write the script and fail to see the gifts God brings in his way and his time.
More often than not it is in the silence of reflection and prayer that we finally hear the gentle whisper of love that we can only hear when we are quiet and let God show us what we have been missing all along. Faith is surrender and often in that surrender is when we find the answers most needed and the peace that is beyond all understanding. In the miracles of Christmas and Easter God shows there is nothing that will separate us from his love, and sometimes the silence of reflecting on such grace will bring more healing and peace than anything as dramatic as an earthquake or a whale leaping in the sea. God’s whispers are louder and more dramatic than what we could ever imagine or demand. “Be silent and know that I am God” is the prayer of Psalm 46, and the inspiration of the hymn “be still my soul.” In such silence comes the greatest peace of all.