I can't hear you, what are you even saying??

So God and me, we have this deal you see. I tell him I'll listen to him and trust his plan, but he just has to be very clear and very loud when telling me what to do. You know, because maybe sometimes I'm a little hard of hearing, have headphones on, am a little stubborn, or I'm not listening and just didn't realize it. So I ask him to be loud. Like, really loud, so his voice is louder than all the crap  fluttering through my brain. Sometimes it takes a hot minute, but usually the message gets through, and then I thank him for the help in scooting me along his path.

But lately, I'm just not gettin' the message. The last few weeks, either in quiet times, casual reading, Facebook, everywhere, the same verses keep popping up.

2 Dear brothers and sisters,[a] when troubles of any kind come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy. 3 For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. 4 So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be perfect and complete, needing nothing.
James 1:2-4

I know God is trying to tell me something, so I try to turn the volume down in my brain and listen a little closer...nope, still don't get it. Sit. Ponder. Pray. Verse pops up again. Strain to listen better. Ponder. Pray. Nope, still don't get it. I'm left sitting here with a thousand questions that I just rapid fire at God, are the troubles my current status, this whole cancer thing? Or are there more troubles on the horizon? Or am I overthinking it and the troubles are the every day stresses of life, and I'm just doing a really bad job at handling them? Consider it an opportunity for great joy...okay, I know sometimes I ride the struggle bus with this, but I'm trying, I'm really trying. Am I not doing good enough, am I doing it wrong? How is my faith going to be tested? I thought that was the only part I was maybe kinda doing right lately, this whole faith thing? Or is it that my endurance isn't fully developed. What do you even mean by endurance?? Earthly or my faith? Hello? God? I don't get it, could you be a little louder, please...

Then I'm just totally lost in my own thoughts, spinning wildly out of control, and I think at this point God probably up and walked away because clearly I'm not talking to him anymore I'm just talking out loud to myself. Hence why I ask him to be clear and loud. Really loud. Because it's a hot mess inside my head. Then one of the many voices in there screams "Shut! Up! I'm trying to listen!" to get all the other voices to quiet their damn mouths so I can get back on track to trying to listen to God. But they're all still shooting of questions, still picking it all apart, still screaming and interrupting each other. Ugh, fine, I'll just sit. Ponder. Pray...and yet I felt nowhere near closer to understanding what it is I'm missing. I can't hear you, God, what are you trying to say?

Fast forward to this month, I don't even remember what page or email I was reading, but there it was, same verse popped up again. I throw my hands up, toss in the towel, I got nothin' God, I'm obviously completely lost on this one. I have absolutely no idea what you're saying. So I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and just listen to the silence. The silence some might take as a bad sign, that maybe God has given up trying to tell me, decided I just wasn't going to listen and really did walk away. But if there's something you in your heart think is imperative your kids hear or understand, would you just give up on them? Walk away? Consider them a lost cause? I'm guessing the answer is no, that's why I know God hasn't given up on me. Because I'm his daughter, and a good father never considers their daughter a lost cause.

The silence isn't him giving up on me, isn't his frustration at my not listening so now he's giving me the silent treatment. The silence is his gift. Because we have this deal, you see. I tell him I'll listen to him and trust his plan...but he sees me struggling, fighting to quiet the noise...so he turns down the volume for me. He gives me the gift of silence. So I can listen. So I can feel his words press against my heart...and now, I listen to the silence. Not questions flying through my head, no frustration, no voices yelling over each other. Just silence. His silence. My gift, so I can hear him, and I thank him, for the help in scooting me along his path.