The One About the End of Summer, the Silence of God and How to Wait Well

Dear West Family

Well, schools are just about back and so this mail may well be one of 23084712039841029387 that you receive today as all of the details of next week’s imminent return begin to sap not just our bandwidth but also our attention. Another academic year begins, and this time, I swear I am going to be on top of things. We’re cutting screen time, increasing vegetables, and all getting to bed by 8 … from now on, and this time I mean it!

To be honest, this has been a mixed summer. We have had some sweet, sweet times together as a family and have even experienced a couple of really brilliant vacation times. I am so thankful for those. But, we have also experienced the pain of loss, and the distance of separation this year as Sue has once again had to spend quite a few weeks away from us caring for her family in South Africa. She gets home to Austin tomorrow, and we are very thankful for that.

As I have been reflecting on this season, I have realized that I have managed to stay attentive to the reality of God through the most of the really good and bad of summer, and I am grateful for that. But, to be fully honest, God has felt distant, silent almost, in much of it. I have never doubted his steadfast love or the wisdom of His purposes, but as I think back, I don’t think I have been tangibly aware of His presence, and a lot of my prayer time has felt as if I pour out the same request and get no real response.

Do you ever feel seasons like that?
What are we to do when God feels silent and far off?

The answer for me has always been to not just wait for the next word from Him, but to turn to what He has already said in His Word for all time, and the good news is that the Scriptures speak of this exact feeling on quite a few occasions. One of my favorites is in Psalm 62. David says, 

5 For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, 

for my hope is from him. 

6 He only is my rock and my salvation, 

my fortress; I shall not be shaken. 

7 On God rests my salvation and my glory; 

my mighty rock, my refuge is God. 

8 Trust in him at all times, O people; 

pour out your heart before him; 

God is a refuge for us. Selah 

- Ps 62:5–8 (ESV)

Here David gives us some clear instructions for seasons of waiting and heavenly silence, and he knew a thing or two about those seasons. What are we to do when God seems silent?

First, wait. I hate waiting, for anything, and so this is the most frustrating thing the Scriptures could say to me, but it is an oft-repeated instruction for the people of God. Wait … and then wait longer … and when you’re done with that, well, wait. God operates on another timeframe. He never seems to be subject to our own time demands, and yet, He is never late. We have been waiting on the Lord in prayer for Sue’s dad for over a year now. We can and will wait longer. 

Second, wait for God alone. In some seasons, I thought that God had been silent when in fact He had just said “no” to something that I had put in His place. My hope then wasn’t actually in the presence of God but only in something that I wanted Him to provide. Are you waiting for Him, or for something you want from Him? Those two get very intertwined and I understand that full well.

Third, wait in silence. Sue laughs at me because I always want background music to my life. If I am around, then there is music on in the background. As I am typing this, I am listening to a little Scottish band called Deacon Blue. Gosh their album “Raintown” is very, very good. This desire for constant sonic companionship can mean that I am very uncomfortable with silence, and then I tend to drown it out when exposed to it. David knows that if he is going to hear the still, small voice, then he is going to need to be quiet enough to hear the whisper. When I think that God has gotten quiet, sometimes it means that my life has gotten too loud.

Fourth, secure the anchor of hope in the only thing that can hold it, which is the steadfast love of God. “What are you hoping for?” has become one of the most revealing and powerful questions I ask myself. What I am hoping FOR often reveals where my real hope comes FROM, and all too often I have tried to anchor hope in something that cannot hold its weight. We have hoped (and continue to hope) for a particular set of outcomes for my precious father-in-law. There is nothing wrong with that, except when those sets of outcomes start to become my source of hope. Living like that allows your spiritual temperature to wax and wane with the particular outcomes of things you have no control over, and that is no way to live the life of faith.

Fifth, and last for today for the 8 who are still reading (thanks Mom and Dad for boosting my numbers.) Remember the security of your salvation. When I am struggling to see the current work of God in my life then I need to remember the already miraculous work of God in my life, where He saved me through no power of my own, and now allows me to rest the weight of that salvation on the rock of His already finished work. I don’t need to try to carry my own rock around for some sense of stability in the shifting sands of my life, but rather I get to anchor my security in the rock of Golgotha, and the work that Christ accomplished on that most secure of hills.

Dear friends. Wait, for God alone, in silence, securing your hope in Him, and remembering the certainty of your salvation. He is still at work. Wait for Him.

The song this week is from the one and only aforementioned Deacon Blue. This song, Dignity, was written in Glasgow in the mid 80’s and performed there 30 years later. It is about the struggles of Scotland’s coastal working class. It speaks of the writer’s dad, who worked in the Scottish shipyards and longed for the dignity of a boat of his own.  It is retro, but it is magnificent. People’s stories are amazing. 

Enjoy.

Deacon Blue - Dignity (Glasgow Barrowlands 2016)

See you Sunday.

Ross