Beads of water were dripping down my back from wet hair.
My legs were tingling and numb from sitting on them for so long. Her going to sleep, which normally was very routine had turned into bursts of crying. Not the I’m okay, but don’t want to go to sleep, crying. But I’m scared. I need you, crying.
They started once again, her cries, and that little brown hand reached out of the crib rails to grab mine for the third time. She just needed to make sure I was there. “It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s here.”
dancing with Him.
Some, where my heart was so tender to His speaking, and I heard Him everywhere. There were the times when He carried me because life was just too hard to walk on my own. There were days of not having the words to pray to Him, because my heart ached so badly. But there were also times, I couldn’t stop singing to Him because of His faithfulness and goodness. And then, there were times of silence.
Here, in the silence, is where I find myself now.
These times, might be the hardest. We all have them, the seasons of silence. The Israelites, at one point, went 400 years and didn’t hear Him. They had seen Him perform miracle after miracle. He spoke through prophets. They saw Him in pillars of fire and clouds. His Words were written in stone. And then all of the sudden…nothing.
In these times, I pray and whine and beg Him to respond.
And all the while, He is.
In His silence, He speaks, “It’s okay, baby. I’m right here.”
Just knowing that He is near settles my heart. His nearness calms my anxiety. His hand holding mine, reminds me that I am not alone. He has not forgotten me. I am His. And He is mine.
You might be in a hard place today, sweet friend. You might be crying out to what feels like silence. You might feel like He has forgotten you. You might feel scared, broken, and alone. But just reach out your hand. He is here.
He wraps His arms around you in the hug of a friend. He speaks truth and grace into your heart through His Word. He smiles at you through each sunrise. His hand lovingly holds your face when you feel like there is no hope. He catches every tear you cry. He might be quiet, but He’s near.
And He’s waiting.
Just reach out your hand.
He’s right here.
“Can a woman forget her nursing child, that she should have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you. Behold, I have engraved you on the palms of my hand; your walls are continually before me.” Isaiah 49:15-16 ESV