In the late-night hours, when the house is still and dark, I am alone with myself - alone with my thoughts, my dreams, my hopes, my fears and insecurities. And yet not completely alone, because it is in these quiet times when I feel most keenly the presence of my God. The constant, pleasant din of a home filled with the conversations of people I love, the occasional yapping of little dogs, the mindless chatter of the television set, and the hum of a variety of electronics and appliances that ease our way, all give way to silence. This is the time when that still, small voice no longer has to compete and is most likely to command my full attention.
It’s been suggested that the voice I hear is not so much God as it is my inner self. That makes me smile, because I know both voices and recognize the difference instantly. My inner voice is not so kind, or encouraging, or gentle with me as my God reliably is.
Like most people, I suppose, I am my harshest critic, always ready to highlight a flaw or shortcoming. It is my voice which reminds me regularly of the scars, the grey hairs, the times I’ve been unkind or selfish, and the days where I’ve given less than my best. It is my voice that agrees with the hurtful things others say to me and about me, and tries to make their lies into my truth. It is my voice that points out how very high are the mountains I must cross, and how terribly ill-equipped I am to climb them.
But it is my God who reminds me of how my scars and grey hairs are hard-won, and the evidence of a full and blessed life. It is God’s voice that offers me forgiveness when I’ve caused others pain, and God who holds my hand as I seek reconciliation and forgiveness from them. It is God’s voice that speaks real truth into my heart, that reminds me I am a child of God, created in the image of God, and loved by God - just because. And it is God’s voice that cheers me on, over each hill and mountain, always promising - and delivering - blessing on the other side.
To which of these voices I’ll listen is always my choice. How very odd that I often choose the former over the latter.
Anonymous said…
You are a very good writer. Enjoyable to read...wait, I don't see any grey hairs :)! Bev
I'm trying to get back in the habit of writing every day. Lately, I've been working on character sketches. Some of those will find their way here, in the form of individual comments to this post.
Comments
It’s been suggested that the voice I hear is not so much God as it is my inner self. That makes me smile, because I know both voices and recognize the difference instantly. My inner voice is not so kind, or encouraging, or gentle with me as my God reliably is.
Like most people, I suppose, I am my harshest critic, always ready to highlight a flaw or shortcoming. It is my voice which reminds me regularly of the scars, the grey hairs, the times I’ve been unkind or selfish, and the days where I’ve given less than my best. It is my voice that agrees with the hurtful things others say to me and about me, and tries to make their lies into my truth. It is my voice that points out how very high are the mountains I must cross, and how terribly ill-equipped I am to climb them.
But it is my God who reminds me of how my scars and grey hairs are hard-won, and the evidence of a full and blessed life. It is God’s voice that offers me forgiveness when I’ve caused others pain, and God who holds my hand as I seek reconciliation and forgiveness from them. It is God’s voice that speaks real truth into my heart, that reminds me I am a child of God, created in the image of God, and loved by God - just because. And it is God’s voice that cheers me on, over each hill and mountain, always promising - and delivering - blessing on the other side.
To which of these voices I’ll listen is always my choice. How very odd that I often choose the former over the latter.