In 1 Kings, I’m right where Elijah is going to encounter God, not in the wind, or the earthquake, or the fire, but rather in the still silence of a nook in the mountain.
I can’t seem to get there. I read it and my eyes close up. The words turn blurry. I don’t want God to be a still small voice. I want God to be a lion like in Narnia. I want God to be healing my friend with cancer and my friend’s friend with cancer. I want God to come. Today. Now. Soon. Fix things.
I’m not ready to listen to a still small voice. I am not willing, yet anyway, to see God in a sound of sheer silence. I want voices of love and joy. I want song. I want birds chipping (but not at night, go away owl or evil creature).
Instead here where I am is a beautiful break in the ice cold weather and walking was wonderful, running into other people, enjoying the break from work and study, feeling a gentle breeze on my skin, feeling a bit of a lift of gloom. Thinking that it is remotely possible that flowers might be cooking underground and thinking of rising up. Thinking of sunsets and sunrises and puffy clouds with shapes. Feeling the crunch of old leaves and acorns under feet, leaping over mud puddles, not feeling my years in my bones. There were dogs barking in a friendly way, and children with glee, and the sound of cyclists full tilt in joy of speed.
Today is just a beautiful break.