When it Feels Like God Isn't Speaking

One day Moses was tending the flock of his father-in-law, Jethro, he priest of Midian. He led the flock far into the wilderness and came to Sinai, the mountain of God. There the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a blazing fire from the middle of a bush. Moses stared in amazement. Though the bush was engulfed in flames, it didn’t burn up. 3“This is amazing,” Moses said to himself. “Why isn’t that bush burning up? I must go see it.”

When the Lord saw Moses coming to take a closer look, God called to him from the middle of the bush, “Moses! Moses!”

“Here I am!” Moses replied.

“Do not come any closer,” the Lord warned. “Take off your sandals, for you are standing on holy ground."

-Exodus 3:1-5 NLT

Maybe you're like me.

Maybe, you've found yourself hoping for a burning bush, waiting for God to speak to you.

I've found myself straining to hear from God a lot, lately. After leaving a church I served for nearly four years, I've felt a little like I'm drifting. I miss the community (or, at least the community I thought I had -- it's funny how leaving a Church can apparently mean people leaving you, too.) I miss the rhythms of Sunday mornings, the doxology and the holy Eucharist. I've been waiting for God to speak to me, to make His presence known. I've been wandering, hoping for direction, but feeling like I'm doing nothing but kicking rocks.

I realized something, though, I've missed when it comes to God speaking: I have to be willing to look for God, to pay attention, to assume a posture of curiosity before God will talk.

Look at Moses -- God did not call out to him until Moses had drawn near to investigate the wonder of the flames. God didn't immediately call out of the bush, "Hey! Over here! Come here! Listen!" No, God waited to speak until Moses had sought the source of the light, until he'd come closer.

So often, I want God to interrupt my days with clear directions, with important insights. And yet...

God doesn't impose, or yell, or wave a bright flag in my face to draw my attention to Him.

God speaks when I go looking for Him. God speaks when I am fully present and paying attention.

If I am distracted, or angry, or tired, or anxious, I don't look for wonders that will lead me towards the God who Speaks; rather, I simmer over wondering why God hasn't come to me yet. And isn't that entitlement? The belief that when I'm suffering, when I'm grumpy, when I'm inconvenienced, God should swoop in and fix it all? That God should come and speak and move and magically make things better? Or what about when I'm just living my life? Going through the motions, tending to my own sheep, juggling all the balls? Even there, in those everyday places, I wait for God to reveal Himself to me.

But what would happen if I pivoted from a place of irritation to a place of inquisitiveness? If I allowed myself to experience awe at the everyday wonders, and to draw near to them, asking, "What can this teach me?" or "God, are you here?"

God. Are you here? Will you say something? I'm finally paying attention.