“And the dialect of God is the day just as it comes” Ann Voskamp
I pray a lot more now than I used to. I’m a mom and a wife, on my knees is a way of life: scooping up toys, lifting up babies, cleaning up spills… begging for new mercies and more grace. Desperately seeking wisdom in this journey.
God has the ability but, in my experience, rarely speaks loudly. His message is powerful and perfect and He can bend the winds of my life; I suppose that’s why He doesn’t shout.
He is communicating constantly; it’s just in our amplified neon world it is easy to miss the wind.
My God talks in subtleties; in rainy days and perfectly timed peonies, in traffic jams and puppy kisses, his guiding hand, a forceful slow down child.
He wakes me before dawn to ponder life with Him and see the world in the clear dark of dew.
Faith, communication, is more than a feeling or a justification of wants and I can’t rightly explain it.
But He speaks all day and I can only hear when I quiet down, and it’s worth the slow down.