There is a bird gently perched on a post, far in the distance. Unmoving, waiting to be noticed.
I am sitting on a park bench. Between me and my bird friend, people pass on foot, on bicycles, and on scooters. They talk energetically and laugh. Some are lined up at a food truck, calling out lunch orders to be heard above the noise. Music plays, cars roll past on a nearby street, and occasionally a siren blares or a horn blows. The sights, sounds, and smells of the busy park are everywhere.
With some effort, I try to shut out the distractions and narrow my focus. I can almost make out the bird, still patiently waiting atop his perch. I can almost make out its song above the din.
This is how I interpret coming before God in prayer: it is hard, and it takes practice, because the distractions never simply vanish on their own. But if I stick with it, if I seek Him out, He is right where He has always been—unshaken, unbothered, and waiting for me. Like the prophet Elijah discovering that God wasn’t in the wind, the earthquake, or the fire, but in a gentle whisper, His song is quiet. I think that’s because He wants me to get close enough to hear it—to draw near enough to be held.
“And after the fire came a gentle whisper.” — 1 Kings 19:12
Leave a Reply