But often, there is that period of quiet and stillness where my plea is hanging out there and no lightning bolts of clarity are coming in response. For as much as I beg my kids for peace and quiet, I'm uncomfortable with it when it comes from my God. Tell me what to do. Give me a sign that I'm on the right path. Hello God, it's me, Amy. Are you there?
In the absence of an immediate response from Him, I fill that silence with a twisting, emotional debate between my heart and my head. Trying to force an answer, trying to control the outcome of whatever the situation might be. It's exhausting, really.
And foolish, because if I would rest in the quiet, if I would let go of my need to orchestrate every last detail, if I would trust that God will lead where I should follow, I have a sneaking suspicion that I would hear the answer I'm so impatiently waiting for. That instead of being tired and worn out, I would be fulfilled by the assurance that someone greater is at the controls.
Thanks for letting me: