Journeys of Faith: Through the Silence

I've been praying for months and months for an outlet to serve God: a ministry, a way to help others, some way to use my abilities and talents to help Him become known to others.

And for months… silence.

I read this week that “God is in the silence, but He is NOT silent”.

I love that thought. (Thank you Max Dubinsky, if you ever read this).

God isn’t silent. He isn’t just sitting up there hitting the mute button on me. He doesn’t just look at me when I am on my knees, begging--pleading really, to know…to understand…to get it. He turns to me. He hears my cry. And in those moments that He turns, He answers.

I have found that most of the time these answers are not what I want to hear. So I blame Him. I tell people He is silent. I look for answers elsewhere. Worst yet, I take matters into my own hands and try to do things MY way. (That works out so well, let me tell you).

But. There is always a but.

But He does answer me. Lately and, for most of the last two years, this is what He has said:

“Wait, My darling… “

“Not yet, My love…”

“Am I not enough?”

“Don’t you see Me?”

“My timing, not yours.”

“I love you.  I will never fail you.”

So why is that not enough for me? Why do I not take Him at His wonderful, beautiful, living word?

Because I’m scared.

I’m scared I’ll make a mistake and miss the road marked “DIANA”.

I’m scared I’ll never make a difference in this world FOR HIM.

That is the cruelest form of disobedience of His calling on my life: being scared.

It’s time to put away my fears.  It’s time to use what God has given me and have faith.. even if it is as small as a mustard seed.

I’ll let you in on a little secret: I LOVE to write. I have journals, upon journals of letters and notes to God. I can write you a more eloquent letter about how I feel about you than I could ever express in true words to your face. I love texting… LOVE texting. Don’t ever call me. Just text. It’s so much easier for me. Seriously. And I promise, we’ll both feel less awkward because I EXCELL at making phone conversations awkward. (Gold medal winner right here if that ever becomes some sort of strange sport).

But I’m scared.

I read blogs all the time of ordinary people who love Jesus and want to share about Him and what He is doing in their lives. I follow about 40 of them on Twitter. I gain encouragement, pass on their kind words, and even envy the fact that they can do that.

I wrote a letter to a friend, who I had not been close with that long, as he was struggling with sin in his life. I will never forget him looking into my eyes and telling me I should be a writer after reading that letter. My heart felt a tug.

I pray… all the time, day after day, night after night, that God would show me what it is He wants me to do with my life. And yet… silence.

But. There’s always a but.

Tonight, I attended a gathering of friends to get together and worship and praise God called “Prayer on the Porch”. (Stephanie and Tim—you guys are awesome). And I prayed. And others prayed. And here are the things I prayed for:

1. That God would allow me to serve Him.
2. That God would provide me with a Godly husband, that is more in love with Him than he would ever be with me.
3. That God would give me wisdom and understanding to be able to recognize and move along the path’s that He is lying before my feet. 

Tonight when I came home and sat here thinking and praying to God to just use me… I suddenly just felt it. My heart felt a tug.

“Write.”

I just looked at my computer sitting beside my TV. I hate this thing. It’s old and slow and doesn’t really work half the time. But I grabbed it. And I waited 15 minutes for it to boot up.

And then I wrote.

I don’t know what God has in store for me. The bible tells us “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind can conceive what God has prepared for those who love Him” (1 Corinthians 2:9). But He knows I love him. I desperately, whole-heartedly, passionately love Him.

If He says write, I’m going to write. As long as He provides me with words.

So welcome to the journey. I hope you’ll read, comment, and tag along with me. This journey isn’t about me. Quite frankly it isn’t about you. But I guess we’ll both figure that out as we go.