If there’s one thing in life I’ve learned, it’s that nothing compares to hearing God’s voice.
I remember one time, just like it was yesterday. I was sitting outside of my church on a faded green picnic table. The pond in front of me was as calm as could be, and boasting the most beautiful reflection of a crimson and orange sunset, with storm clouds wavering on the horizon. Birds sweetly singing on my right, cars driving past on my left. The salty tears of bitterness and anger were flowing freely. I felt like I was holding my heart in my hands, in a million little pieces. I had reached the end of me. I was ready to give up.
I cried out, “God, there’s so much work to do. I’m so messed up! My view of you is wrong, my heart is destroyed. I don’t know if I want to try to fix this. I want you to tell me it’s ok to give up.”
Instantly, there was a cool evening breeze that rushed over me. It stirred my spirit, and left goosebumps on my skin. I heard the sweetest sound in my soul. It was simply the words: I love you.
That moment has carried me through the last 3 years of healing and life’s everyday struggles. Even writing about it has me overwhelmed at the faithfulness and love of God.
I love to visit that picnic table and simply remember the moment. I long to be reminded of the sincere vulnerability of my heart that day, and deeply desire to carry it my whole life through. I’ve learned that God doesn’t always tell us what we want to hear, but He always says what we need, if we allow ourselves to be open to what He has to say.