Can you hear me now?
“If silence was golden, then I would be rich!” For I would spin all my quiet hours into the most priceless treasures.
Indeed, for me those silent, golden treasures are the house spent in prayer. while my heart does not treasure the quiet, silence, there is something to be said about placing one’s heart where the treasure lies. So rather than focus on the deafening hum of the refrigerator, I choose to focus on the prayer list.
Santa Claus might have a list a mile long, but mine seems to grow forever in leaps of marathons. Every hour it seems I lay my burdens down, only to pick them right back up again. No thoughts of who is naughty or nice, just simply sending heavenward the supplications for God’s storehouse to open up.
But what happens when it seems that God does not answer? Or rather when it seems as if the answer is a slap in the face? Hugging a porcupine really does not work. And there seems to ve a viper in every stitch of those whom I have spent my hours in labor for?
Should I quit?
Should I write off the needs of those who chose to stab me in the back? How do I translate my hours of prayer into care for others when it is not accepted.
I feel like the commercial-
“Can You Hear Me Now?”
Sometimes silence is golden.
I haven’t arrived into a silence that feels very rich yet. It seems empty.