For the longest time I have always felt like my walk with the Lord came in peaks and valleys. Some seasons were greater than others, some felt like pure torture, and looking back on others I can see how I raced in to those lowly valleys head first. But, never have I been where I am now. A drought. A seemingly endless furlough from God. Don't get me wrong, I do not under any circumstances think God has left me (I know He hasn't) but it has been about 3 months since I have actually heard from God, which is a long time considering where I was 3 months ago.
3 Months ago I encountered the Lord in a radical way. A way I thought only crazy people did. I was at a conference called Voice of the Apostles, and to keep this post from being pages long I will just say it was one of (if not THE MOST) amazing experiences of my life. If you EVER get a chance to go, do it. So, I'm at VOA and I see radical transformations, healings, testimonies, the Spirit was infectious. I came home and set out to live each day with that same Spirit, that same willingness and desire to pray for every person who would let me. To talk with people and love on them. To give selflessly. I heard from God daily. He spoke to me in my prayer times, and His Word was given new life at His breath. And then, He went silent.
I can't remember now whether God gradually stopped speaking, or if one day He just was quiet, though I tend to lean towards the latter. Either way, I stopped hearing Him. I stopped feeling Him. And I think that's normal. I think it is normal to go through droughts with God, for Him to build us up to bring us through the desert, and yet I feel like so few Christians ever talk about it. Throught His word his people are built up to be broken down and rebuilt, and I think he continues to do it today.
I will say this, it has been hard to press in to Him when I feel like He isn't there (I saw feel because obviously I know He really is). It's hard to want to pray when I feel like all the crying out in the world and I get nothing in return. It's hard to want to open the Word and read when nothing speaks to me anymore. And yet, somehow, I have to persevere. I have to keep moving forward. I refuse to wander in the desert.
Tonight, as I was driving in the car a song came on my radio. Really, it was a CD that had been in my player and I had been singing along to for quite some time, but apparently never listened to the lyrics. "I know you don't see me. You don't hear me, but keep your eyes wide open. Keep your eyes wide open."
I know my drought is not over, but I know that He is there. Even when I don't feel Him or see Him, if I open my eyes really open my eyes, I know.
