It is not often that I am without words, but I find myself in a season where words are hiding. They refuse to surface and express themselves. Maybe you’ve been there too. Maybe life is just cyclical that way – a time and season for everything. A time in which the ebb and flow assert their power and prowess. Isn’t that just like life? Showing up and demanding your attention, not allowing you to speak, but forcing you to make room to really “see” and listen.
It’s that kind of season for me, and maybe it’s that way for you too. We are not voiceless beloved. We are not without means of expressing the soul-deep sighs rumbling in our being. We are not without a way to be lifted from the mire. In these moments of hush and fiery storm, I find myself praying the Lord’s Prayer, Psalm 23, singing words to familiar hymns, and art journaling what my words fail to express. I’m so glad God understand the sighs, the songs, and what hands create to help communicate.
There is turmoil all around, and much of it leaves me speechless. I am not without hope. I don’t always have the words to express the grief, anguish, or trouble I sense. But still, I pray – feeble prayers, broken phrases, and often all I can muster is “Lord, help.” Surely He knows. Surely He sees. Surely the prayers of the saints are like sweet incense. Surely He will hear. Surely He will come.
And as I wait, my heart will hold faith. I will cling to the Hope of Promise. I choose to believe that even in the mess, God can show up.
How have you seen Him show up?