Tuesday, May 4, 2010


I use to hear people say that God spoke to them. When I was little I often wondered what that was like. How did they know it was God? When did it happen? When would God speak to me? How could I be sure it was Him? How did He "speak"?

What is amazing is I can look back over my relationship with Christ and pinpoint times when He spoke to me. Sometimes it was raging loud, sometimes more subtle, but I can definitely see them in my past and I desire so much more speaking in my future. I will give you an example. Last spring I was running one night and I was doing my 3 mile route which takes me down my parent's street. I think it was in June and my Mom had already been diagnosed with her blood disease. When I ran down their cul-de-sac, God impressed upon my heart that He was going to take my Mom. I started crying, but my prayer at that moment was that He was in control and I wanted what He wanted. He also showed me how to love her--she was difficult to love--but He made it so clear how He loved her and He gave me peace with some issues I had been dealing with for a long time. I didn't know that God was going to take her in the next 6 months, I was thinking within one to two years, but He prepared me in a way I didn't deserve.

But what I was really thinking about this morning were the times when God was silent. I was listening to a sermon by Matt Chandler and he was talking about the wells we dig. We dig for things that are not God. We come back up thirsty. We come back up empty. We have everything in life, physically. By the rest of the world's standards, we are rich. We are rich anyways. So why do we feel so dry?

There was a time in my life when I didn't hear God speak. I had a relationship with Him, but I didn't want to hear Him speak. I didn't read my Bible for almost a whole year. I was pretty legalistic about reading it too. I still went to church, but I didn't want to go. I still tithed, but my heart was grudging. I wasn't in any active sin. I wasn't in any disobedience. I still loved God. I had a wall up. I was dry. At the time I didn't know why. I do now but that is a whole other blog.

I'll never forget coming out of that dryness. God overwhelmed me one morning on my way to work (I was in college). He reminded me that He was Sovereign. That no matter where I was or how dry I was, He was there. The dryness I had was to teach me as well. No matter how many walls I had up, He was still using them in my relationship with Him. It was okay to be dry, because when I became thirsty, His quench was going to be so sweet.

I suppose that is why I desire sanctification so much. I can truly look back in my relationship with Him and see how He has worked and it makes me want Him to work more. There have been other "dry" spells but they have been short lived and fewer and far between. I want to hear His voice. I want Him to speak to me even though I do not deserve it. He has truly revealed to me how much He loves me in the past 6 years, or I guess I have just started to realize it.

I don't know why this was on my heart this morning. Somebody reading this is dry. It is okay. Pray that God will make you thirsty for Him. Pray that your dryness will be short lived. Pray that God will show you the wells you are digging. Pray that His "quench" will come soon.

God is sovereign over our dryness.

15He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. 16For by him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things were created by him and for him.17He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. 18And he is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning and the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything he might have the supremacy. 19For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, 20and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross.
Colossians 1:15-20

Love Cami

1 comment:

  1. St. John of the Cross called that dryness a "dark night of the soul." I want to want God only, not the consolation of not feeling dry. In other words, I want to want him even if it doesn't bring me feelings of being close to him. Does that make sense?