Do You Hear What I Hear?

After the earthquake there was a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire there was the sound of a gentle whisper.

Did you know that dogs can hear so well that they can sometimes predict earthquakes? God designed dogs’ ears with sensitivities that far surpass their human owners’. Not only can they hear lower and higher frequencies than we can, but dogs can also detect sounds that travel from far away—sometimes deep below the ground. What might sound to us like a whisper—or no sound at all!—can come through loud and clear to our canine friends.

Many people say that during the most acute part of their experience with loss—at the deathbed, during the funeral service—they feel God near. Prayers rise from family and friends on their behalf, and they sense they are held and carried by the intercessions of others. They may feel God speaking words of peace or hope or comfort in those darkest hours.

But as the dust settles and the casseroles stop arriving and the visitors wind down, God seems to get quiet too. Is he tired from exerting himself so much at the memorial service? Has he moved on to other emergency rooms and other deathbeds? That clarion voice that once guided us when death loomed large now grows almost imperceivable. Where is God, and what is he doing?

The prophet Elijah wondered much the same thing when he ran away to the desert. He’d seen God work mightily: feeding him with ravens, sustaining the widow of Zarephath, and raining down fire on his offerings in a contest with the pagan prophets of Baal. Nevertheless, as trouble dragged on, Elijah began to wonder if God was even still paying attention. “I’m the only one left,” he complained to God as he hid from his enemies. It was getting awfully quiet and lonesome.

Into that silence God brought drama and noise, but to Elijah’s surprise, God’s presence was not in these. Instead, God made himself known to Elijah in a whisper, an intimate sound so faint only a heart attuned like Elijah’s could hear. God knew just how to talk with Elijah in his weariness and discouragement. Elijah thought he needed thunder; God knew he needed quiet.

God knows how to talk to you in your weariness too. When the chaos of those first days and weeks dies down, God’s voice still reassures you of his love and presence. He may not speak in clapping thunder in this season, but he is still with you. As you grieve and learn to live without your person, receive God in quietness, a sound that with mindful attention your heart can hear.

I will lead her into the desert and speak tenderly to her there. I will return her vineyards to her and transform the Valley of Trouble into a gateway of hope.

“LORD, help!” they cried in their trouble, and he saved them from their distress. He calmed the storm to a whisper and stilled the waves. What a blessing was that stillness as he brought them safely into harbor!

A Prayer: God, I long to hear your voice like I did around the time of my person’s death. You felt so close, and your comfort seemed so clear. Now, tiredness wears me down and life moves on, and I don’t notice you in the same ways that I did before. By your Spirit, tune my ears to hear your voice. Sharpen my attention so that I notice your movement in my life. Refresh me with your promises and remind me that even when the intensity of my loss ebbs away, you are still here beside me, speaking words of comfort and hope. Amen.

An Activity for Today: God created your body with amazing attention to detail, and your body is always sending you messages. Where do you feel your grief today? Sit for a moment in silence and close your eyes. Scan your body from head to toe and gently identify places of tension, ache, or pain. As you do, take a deep breath in, hold it for four counts, and exhale, imagining that you are blowing the discomfort out of that space of your body. Mark on the diagram of the person below where you feel your grief today so that you can go back and see how it shifts from day to day.

A Song to Encourage Your Heart: “Those Who Have Not Seen” by Anchor Hymns