Imagine you could control the weather. With but a thought, a gentle request, you could shut off the rains of heaven, and not just for a day, but for years. Then just as easily, you ask that the drops of refreshing nourishment return, and they do. You literally hold the power of life in your hands. You are amazing.  There is nothing you can’t do. You have the world by a string. You control your destiny. Don’t we all secretly dream of having that much power and confidence? Yet, we all know what comes next. You are asked to do more and more, which you do because that is what is asked of you. There are no accolades, only challenges and requests. There are only the next steps. It is all you know. There are expectations to be met.

But suddenly, for some known or unknown reason, the world comes at you. You are told you are wrong in your beliefs. You are told either silently or vocally that you are not good enough. You are called out, challenged, and ultimately, you feel cast aside by the very ones you were trying to help. The wins of yesterday, the greatness of your gifts becomes afterthoughts. There is only the cry for escape. The same mouth that spoke words which could stop the rain now cry out, “I am nothing. Nobody cares, I can’t do this anymore. Let me die.”

If that sounds familiar, you are NOT ALONE! Men and women far greater than you and I have felt the same. The prophet Elijah (1^st Kings 19) lived through those same feelings of “I don’t matter to anyone.”  At his lowest, God came to him and asked what he was doing there.  In the South, we would ask, “Everything okay?” To which, the obligatory reply becomes, “I’m good.”  But not Elijah. He actually said to God (in my imagined dialogue), “Look, I did all this for you, and what do I have to show for it? Nothing. They hate me. Nobody even cares that I’ve gone.”

But rather than say, “Well, that’s nice.” God engaged in conversation as only God could. He said, “I want you to keep listening to the world’s noise for just a bit longer,” as the mountains shook, and the wind roared, and the fire fell from the sky.  “Hear that?” said God. “Well, I am not there, but I am here,” he replied in a still, soft voice whispered on the gentle breeze against Elijah’s face.

There is a powerful lesson in the Word for those of us who mindlessly reply, “I’m good,” when asked how life is treating us.  Perhaps we would be wise to open up and speak our truth. I, for one, tend to worry more about the fire around me and the mountains crumbling than the gentle breezes. I would be well served to remember that sometimes the things the world shows us, the noise, if you will, is just that, NOISE. It is not the message of our God.

But just as important, maybe more so, is the lesson in the WORD for those of us who ask, “Everything okay?” of those souls we encounter then fail to wait for the reply. When we hear “I’m okay”, we must LISTEN for the unspoken words of burden and loss. And when we speak, we must not speak with the noise of the WORLD because He is not there.  

Hug those you love a little tighter today. May your whispers of God’s mercy be louder than the rolling thunder in the storms of life. Peace be with you.