Silence and the Voice

I would say I've never been able to hear God's voice very well. At one time, not at all. That is, I hear more now than ever...and while the amount is still unsatisfactory, it is sooo good compared to the old days.

I asked Jesus into my heart when I was six, and since I was from a 'Christian' home, fell into 'Christian' behavior very easily. 'Conviction' (condemnation) was a constant friend. I looonged for Jesus to talk to me audibly, and I'd squinch my eyes shut and focus for the still small voice. But I never heard it.

By the time I was a teen, my desire for His presence and His voice was a constant burn. But I still couldn't hear Him. I had a habit of filling my head with fantasies from the thirty some odd books I read weekly in order to quiet my soul, and at some point around the age of seventeen, I chose to stop.

The silence in my head was palpable and intense. Except for the jibbering voice of me. The feelings of exposure and fear and vulnerability were overwhelming.

Every morning I'd walk down the trail to our goat barn to milk six goats. Spring was the best time for that; I loved birth and I loved babies. I loved watching the maternal instinct in action. As I'd swing me leg over our electric fence, I'd pray. God, talk to me. God, what do you want to say? Please God, it's me, Jessica.

This is what I'd hear; "Jessica, you're beautiful. Jessica, I love you so much. Jessica, you're gorgeous and brilliant."

This is what I'd say back; "Jessica, shut up. Jessica, shut up...you aren't God."

I knew I needed to hear those things. I wanted it soooo bad. I believed I was filling that quiet space with what I wanted God to say, and I didn't believe it because it was so good. Too good.

And I shut that Voice down. The only voice I'd allow to speak would be the corrective ones.

But I missed it. I missed looking at the part of my soul that quivered when I allowed that voice to speak. Like a child rolling her eyes when her Daddy calls her pretty, I avoided it. My fear of allowing pride to grow, just encouraged pride and fear to grow.

What happens when you don't believe what God says about you? You have to find another label. Where are you getting it? I got mine from others. Whatever other people said, be it good or evil, I took it. But it wasn't Truth.

The Truth was what I refused to hear, and it left me empty, nameless and hungry. I think that's enough of that, so I'm listening now.