Of Soul-Struggle and God’s Voice


Oh… why is it always thus? Why no answers, no ‘finis’? Why just the silence and ache and questions?

I know–I know I must trust Him. I do, mostly. But–and here is my still-weak ‘but’–But when am I to know?

. . . Is… is it, “wait,” even still? How long, oh Lord, how long?

Thy time, it is best. We wait for Thee alone. Thou knowest the way; Thou wilt lead us. Oh, God, sustain my heart; for it is weak. Lead me, guide me, teach me to love. Cast out my fear with Thy perfect, unending love.

You. Are. Good.

And I will ever praise You.

Just after that journal prayer, I went to read “Abide in Christ.” This is what I read:




And more… but you get the idea. (If you want to read more you should BUY IT.) It was, precisely, what I needed to hear. The sense of God speaking to my need was overwhelming.

I went out side, then, and enjoyed the cool night air, the stars, the scented air, and the rough comfort of my praying tree. But even more than that, I enjoyed my God. Afterwards, I journaled the whole experience…


. . .There came, from the canal, repeated, violent splashings–I was, of course, curious, but stayed in the tree. For awhile. Finally I went and got a head lamp booklight, which… did very little. So I sat on one of the chairs on the patio. Heard more–tried to see again. <repeat several times.> Still couldn’t see anything. Tried to guess what it was. That is–until I suddenly realized that this was, as Amy Carmichael says, “A figure of the true.”

The splashing in the dark–the mysterious troubles, the unanswerable, tumbling questions.

The light–my attempts to figure it out on my own, which a. Did not work and b. Distracted me from God.

So… I let the splashing continue, and I turned my eyes upward to the stars, and my heart learned, yet more, to abide with the One who is here. The One who knows. The One who has gone before. The one who sees the end. The One who is Good. The One… Who loves… me.


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