The Silence of God

Last weekend I had the opportunity to spend some time with my sister and nieces at a beautiful cabin in the Colorado mountains. We had a great time laughing, hiking, resting, and playing together. As a bonus, I also got to spend a little time with my sister-in-law, her husband, and my other nieces and nephew. The time with family was refreshing.

Even beyond family, though, there is something about being in the mountains that always feels like coming home to me. Despite many prayers over the years, God has never said “yes” to us moving to Colorado. In many ways, I’m really ok with that – I love our home, our community, and our village of friends. It would be very hard to move away from that. But a big chunk of my heart is in Colorado, and some of my deepest moments of growth have happened in the shadow of a mountain.

That’s why this past weekend, on Sunday morning, I hiked up the mountain behind the cabin to worship and spend some time alone with Jesus. While there, I was again reminded of some important lessons I’ve learned through my experiences with God in the mountains – experiences that have directly shaped the intimacy I have with Jesus. And intimacy with Jesus is not a phrase I use lightly. Through my deepest struggles over the years, especially with depression, that closeness with Jesus has been what has pulled me through. It has been an anchor that has held me to the Truth, even when my heart, mind, and body were overwhelmed with sorrow and struggle.

So I want to share these experiences with you. Perhaps you desire to seek God out, and if so, I pray you’ll bear these things I’ve learned in mind. However, if you have to learn them on your own, I understand that too. The lessons we learn for ourselves are often the hardest, but they stick the strongest. But I will still share my stories here, because I want to bear witness to the things God has taught me.

First let me say, however, that in all the things I’ve learned and heard from God over the years, Scripture has been the truest and most reliable way for me to hear Him speak. Consistent time in His Word has filled me and reminded me of the truth of who Christ is. It’s stretched me and challenged me, given me comfort and peace. It’s been the measuring rod of truth for every emotion and conviction I’ve had. Any time I believe I’ve heard God speak, I’ve measured it against the truth of Scripture because I know that my thoughts are fleeting and my heart is easily swayed. Scripture is an anchor for me.

All that being said, I want to share with you three stories of times I learned very important lessons on the topic of listening to God. I don’t think I’ll include them all in this specific post – that would take too much time. But today I want to get started with a time I learned about the silence of God.

Many years ago, before Josh and I had kids (so maybe 17, 18 years ago?), I was at a bit of a low place in my relationship with God. I don’t remember specifically what was going on, though based on the timing I’m guessing our struggle with infertility was part of it. I mostly remember feeling almost compelled to go and spend time with God in the mountains. In my arrogance, I thought that if I spent some time and money to “go be with God,” that He would be so honored by my efforts that He would show up and speak to me. I was certain that my time with Him would lead to clear direction for my future and lots of warm fuzzies. 😊

So I went to Estes Park, and spent several days hiking, reading, and praying. In many ways I absolutely loved it. It was restful and peaceful. Rocky Mountain National Park is one of my favorite places on the planet, and I loved hiking the trails and being in nature. But the reality was, that despite all the time I had poured into God, I truly felt that He was silent. He hadn’t shown up. He didn’t speak to me. He was there, I suppose, but there was no “aha” moment or deep life-changing word from God. I felt that He had held back from me what I had been seeking.

On my drive back home through Western Kansas, I became increasingly discouraged and angry. And I laid out my hurt before God. I told Him that I didn’t understand why He had been silent. I had put myself out there. I had invested money and time in order to hear Him and spend time with Him, and it felt like He had barely shown up. I told Him that if that’s the kind of God He is, that won’t show up when I put effort into spending time with Him, then I wasn’t sure that He was a God that I wanted a part of. His silence had been painful, it had hurt, and it led me to doubt His love for me.

I fully believe that God can handle it when we rail against Him. He wants us to be honest, and He’s big enough to handle our doubts, our complaints, and even our arrogance. But that doesn’t mean that He won’t put us in our place when the situation requires it. And as I laid out my case against Him, that is exactly what God did.

As I was about an hour away from home, I could see a thunderstorm forming in front of me. At this point, I had pretty much decided that my relationship with God was going to have some big changes. I couldn’t trust Him anymore. I couldn’t give my life to a Being who didn’t show up when I showed up. But as I drove into the thunderstorm, in the final leg of my trip, about as far away from the mountains as I could get, I finally began to hear God speak.

The thunderstorm was vicious. It was loud. There was incredible wind, blinding rain, large hail, and thunder and lightning that pounded the sky. I quickly pulled over – there was no way to drive through this. And as I sat there, a tiny insignificant creature at the mercy of a simple Kansas thunderstorm, I clearly heard God say, “Yes, I am here. I have always been here. But I am mighty. I am powerful. And I will speak when I want to speak, and I will be silent when I want to be silent.”

And then, as the storm moved away, a double rainbow filled the sky, touching the ground on both sides of the interstate. This wasn’t the setting I had imagined God would use to speak to me, but perhaps because it was so out of place is why I remember it so clearly. And in the rainbow I heard the promise from God that He would always be with me. That He loves me with an everlasting love. That despite my arrogance and my desire to set up the perfect way for Him to speak to me, He alone is God. I am not. He may be silent at times, but the promise that He is there is always true. He is worthy of my life, my praise, and my submission to His leading in my life. I can trust His power in my life as much as I can trust His love. No, He didn’t speak in the way I’d hoped. No, He didn’t give me a clear and definite path forward – at least not in the way I’d expected. Instead, He showed up in His time and in His way and reminded me that in the midst of the silence and in the midst of the storm, He is there, and He is mighty beyond my understanding.

And that is what I needed to hear from Him the most.

For Part 2 in Lessons in Listening, click HERE.