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Oh my God
You Fickle Flirt.

Silent speaker.
Elusive presence.

Pricking my senses.
Drawing my guesses.

Why draw away?
Why keep silent?

Must you always keep me wondering?

I want you worn and smooth,
a well-used railing.

You insist on steep and dangerous,
a notorious cliff.

Are you treacherous,
Or just mysterious?

You pull away;
I’m drawn in.

Only bewitched souls endure this long.

Your love so furious
Consuming & Jealous.

You pull away ‘til I’m straining,
Aching & Longing

I’m waiting.
Are you coming?

In Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places, Eugene Peterson writes about the 400+ years of God’s silence while His chosen people languished in Egyptian slavery. He says,

The story in which God does his saving work arises among a people whose primary experience of God is his absence…
This seemingly unending stretch of the experience of the absence of God is reproduced in most of our lives, and most of us don’t know what to make of it. Whether the experience of absence is measured in weeks, months, or years, for most of us it doesn’t fit into what is “normal” in our understanding of salvation. But it is normal.

I wonder if we do ourselves and one another a disservice when we try and force God onto our timetable of communication. What if an honest answer to the question, “What did you hear from God this week?” is “not much”? What if right now there’s more to learn from His silence than His whisper?

I needed to read Peterson’s words because lately it has seemed like God is more silent than communicative. More absent than tangibly present. It was good to be reminded that it’s a normal experience and one in which God often does His biggest saving works.

Do you often experience God’s silence, His absence? How do you respond to it? What encourages you to keep seeking?

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