A Spring of Joy

There is a train that goes by our house once a week, sometimes more. Off in the distance we can hear its whistle announcing its arrival. And every time that whistle blows, Bella comes running, hands over her ears, tears streaming down her face. “MOMMY! The twain! Is loud!” She screams in complete and utter terror. I often run to meet her halfway knowing her fear.

A few days ago we were upstairs. I was folding laundry and she was building houses in the boys’ room. I heard the far-off whistle alarm blowing, and I met her in the hallway, holding her, soothing her. Once the train arrived, we watched it and, like always she was fascinated, held safely in my arms. That day the train arrived and slowly breezed through our town. She returned to her play and I returned to our walk-in closet, hanging shirts, arranging shoes. I didn’t hear the clang of the train cars returning, backing up to meet a new engine.

“Mommy!” she called. “Where are you?”

“In here, babe. In the closet.”

She arrived at the door, tears streaming down her face, “I was looking for you, but I couldn’t hear you.”

That, my friends, is how I am feeling every. single. day. The depression, pain and fatigue are so overwhelming and all I can think is, “Where are you God? I can’t hear you. How am I supposed to do all this without you?”

But the truth of the matter is that He is still there, just like I was when Audrey called. I had never left, she was still safe, and just because she couldn’t hear me or know where I was, didn’t change truth.

And truth is God is here and God hears. He hasn’t left just because I feel like I can’t find Him. His character isn’t based on my experience or my feelings.

And as the clanging of my life’s train cars crash into the chaos of my life, deafening His voice, I will keep looking for Him, and calling because I know He is here.

And one day the sadness will lift forever, the fatigue will be replaced with abundant energy, and the pain will disappear, and all I will have left is eternity hearing His voice.

Lord, teach me to listen. The times are noisy and my ears are weary with the thousand raucous sounds which continuously assault them… Let me hear Thee speaking in my heart. Let me get used to the sound of Thy voice, that its tones may be familiar when the sounds of earth die away and the only sound will be the music of Thy speaking voice. (~A.W. Tozer)