It's the days when the quiet pounds in my ears. The deafening sound of silence. I often wonder if the silence is so loud because it's not silence at all, but invisible darkness and muck swirling around, hidden behind supernatural walls. Taunting me, pricking my skin, laughing at my weak resolve. Lashing fire at me, screeching at me. My soul "hears" them, knows they're there. My flesh can't see them so my soul must decipher. My energy flairs the panic, I know not not how to silence the silence.
It the moments of mayhem, when everything is spinning so fast and the children are pawing at my arms and legs and brain and each other and I can't catch up or focus or even know what to say. So I stare off, do the minimum. I survive. And I do not bless.
Sometimes it's the memories, when I've slipped up and allowed myself to think the "what if..." Memories that are so painful, wrapping themselves around loss and choking. Their vine permanently entwined in mine and I meekly believe that it will always be this way. This grief. The roots too deep for soul surgery.
A lost cause, just give up now, stop trying so hard. Stop trying to grow and mold and change.
The lies pile up until I stop believing and finally knock them over.
The tower of deceit crashed down.
Not with my faith or with my hope or with anything but with my blessing.
"I will bless the Lord at all times; his praise shall continually be in my mouth." Psalm 34:1
I reset myself. Blessing Him is first. Not my list of pleading, not my list of need. Not my list of want. But making mention. Saying the name of the Lord over and over if that's all I can get out at first.
Jehovah Jireh, God our Provider. Jehovah Shalom, God of Peace. Jehovah Rophe, God who heals. Elohim, God Almighty. Immanuel, God with us. Ancient of Days. Messiah. Jesus!
As I call each name, as I make mention of Him in my prayers, the Spirit builds. I can feel the peace, I can feel the healing. I can feel Him near. Just from blessing His name. What power in just a name!
Then it dawns on me. This revelation. This epiphany.
Without this moment of despair, I might not have slowed down. I might not have stopped with the lists. I might not have just blessed His name.
Coming to Him with so much to say, wanting to rush the intimacy, the conversation, I almost missed it. That peace and healing I needed.
It didn't come from me asking and Him giving, though it sometimes does and can. It came from me obeying. Me blessing the name of the Lord.
And in my obedience I saw His power, His love, just waiting for me. A love so strong it has cried out for me to come accept it my entire life. Waiting for me to step into the bedchamber and be with Him. Just He and his bride. Just us. He has washed me clean, and I can be with Him forever.
At once the silence is truly silenced. I feel peace wash over and I finally understand why this is His greatest commandment. To love Him, with all of me. To bless Him without ceasing.
In love I will start there. In hope I run there. In faith I rest there.