Happy Monday maBEARS!I guess I should start by owning up to the fact that writing this musing was nearly impossible for me. As I opened and closed blank word documents the entire week, I realized I was trying to be relevant in a community that I don’t fully get to be a part of right now. I had this hope that I would somehow type up these perfect words that were exactly what y’all needed to hear, and then I could be like BAM look at God speaking the same truth across oceans and languages; but if I’m being honest even if He had I didn’t have the ears to listen.
I came to Spain for many different reasons, but one I was most excited for was the opportunity to finally be still. At Cal, life moves so fast: you miss one night of reading and before you know it the midterm is in front of you and so are the thousand other pages of reading you skipped. So I was more than ready for an opportunity to press pause on that lifestyle. I thought being away from my commitments and the busyness would automatically give me the space to cultivate the habits I wanted; to produce the fruits of faithfulness, peace, and self-control that I so often lack. But even as my surroundings and schedule changed, it’s still the same me on this side of the world.
But also, it’s the same God.
The same Father who calls me child and asks me to “be still and know” (psalm 46). The same shepherd who searches for me and doesn’t rest until he has found me (john 10).
In 1 Kings 19, God meets Elijah on Mount Sinai. He asks him to stand out on the mountain.
“As Elijah stood there, the Lord passed by, and a mighty windstorm hit the mountain. It was such a terrible blast that the rocks were torn loose, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake.
And after the earthquake there was a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire.
And after the fire there was the sound of a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his cloak and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave.”
The same God who appeared to Elijah in the quietest whisper is the one asking the same of you and me, to listen in the quiet and to listen in the storm for the steady voice that has always been. It’s so easy to get caught up in the windstorms and shaken by the earthquakes and distracted by the fire. To find significance in the busyness and the trials as moments of God teaching, pruning, and restoring, but in the moments of stillness, becoming restless.
I don’t want my restlessness to be a reason to run, but instead an opportunity to find stability in the only One in whom I can find rest. So in my season here and in your season at Cal, my prayer is that we would learn how to listen to the soft and gentle voice of a God who is asking us to fully meet him. May we gladly come.