“My heart has heard You say, ‘Come and talk with me.’ And my heart responds, ‘Lord, I am coming.’” Psalm 27:8
The morning drew to a close as we walked our dear friend from Germany out to her car. We had three wonderful days reconnecting and sharing all the wonders God was doing anew in our lives while she was stateside. As we said good-bye and headed inside, I felt the pull to get in the car and drive to the YMCA for a quick workout.
But then I heard a still, small voice whisper to my spirit, “Come away with me.”
I knew He was asking me to spend time with Him. To put aside the good thing for the better thing. So I decided to stay home and as I opened up His Word Psalm 27:8 greeted me. And, His Spirit enveloped me as I whispered, “Lord, I am coming.”
The Thin Silence
I have much need for the “thin silence.” To hear the voice of the Lord as Elijah did on Mount Horeb not in the earthquake, but rather the still, small voice.
I Kings 19 describes how Elijah, fearing for his life, ran away from King Ahab into the wilderness. He hid in a cave on Mount Horeb. In verse 11, we see that God produced a powerful wind that actually ripped the mountains apart. If that was not enough, God quaked the earth. Next, fire consumed. Finally, in verse 12, the Word says God spoke in “a sound of sheer silence.” (NRSV)
In Stephen Prickett's book, Word and The Word, he writes, "What the prophet hears after the earthquake, the wind, and the fire may be literally translated from Hebrew into English as 'a voice of thin silence'."
Every sense in Elijah’s body must have been on high alert. Every illusion of grandeur must have crumbled in the presence of the One Who’s very proximity shatters every iota of sound.
He Was. He Is. He Is The One To Come.
His is the only voice that matters.
Not the voice of others, no matter how dear they are to us. Not the voice of our self, though our flesh demands to be heard.
Make no mistake. The voice of self is not truth. The still small voice of Yahweh is truth.
Let us not resort to listen to the voice of our self. We need a generation that is listening to the thin silence of His still, small voice. Not our own.
“And now the thunder ceased, and the lightning was gone, and the earth was still, and the wind was hushed, and there was a dead calm, and out of the midst of the still air there came what the Hebrew calls ‘a voice of gentle silence,’ as if silence had become audible. There is nothing more terrible than an awful stillness after a dread uproar.” (Spurgeon)
The silence was so loud Elijah could hear it.
Elijah fled in fear, but he was met in his discouragement by the presence of God. God showed up. Yahweh, the covenant-keeping God was faithful to meet with him. Interestingly, the mountain where God showed up, Mount Horeb, is called so because formerly God manifested His glory there to Moses.
My Kingdoms Fall
When I come away with Him. When I stop only learning about Him and listen to Him, I can hear His words. His truth. My kingdoms fall. My desires fade away. My failures are redeemed.
A new kind of trembling comes over me. A fear based on the wonder of Who He is. Not fear of What lies ahead. Sometimes the weight of His glory is so heavy my spirit soars in awe.
When Elijah recognized it was the Lord speaking to Him in the still, small voice “he pulled his cloak over his face.” The glory of Yahweh evoked awe. He was awakened to wonder. His kingdoms fell.
Saint Augustine said,
“You called, you cried, you shattered my deafness. You sparkled, you blazed, you drove away my blindness. You shed your fragrance, and I drew in my breath, and I pant for you. I tasted and I now hunger and thirst. You touched me, and I now burn with longing for your peace.”
I tasted You, and now I hunger for You.
I drank Your living waters, and now I thirst for You.
I came away with You, and now I long for more of You.
I want more. I want more. I want more.
Let me bask in the awe of You. Let Your waves of love wash away my fears. Let me see You as You are.
It is often the tender moments of mercy and communion that cause our hearts to respond rather than the terrors of the night. When we come away with Him, He meets us. The thin silence of His presence envelops us.
Faith comes by hearing the Word of the Lord.
What a sweet time of savoring His truth, I experienced that morning. Tears fell. My heart repented and responded to Him.
The mystery of it all is that He pursues us. He asks us to come away with Him. He wants to be with us. He is the still, small voice we need to hear.
And I hear Him whisper, “Come away with Me.” And so my heart responds, and I come.
Momma to three pixies, Lyric, Brielle, and Zion, wife to a Viking-loving writer, daughter of the King. My blog reflects living the lyrics of the cross in the beauty of everyday. I hold a Masters in theology, but more importantly, I host several barn owls in the second acre. We are all about breathing deep here and soaking in the glory of life.