For a very long time, I have believed without seeing many of the things I have believed. In fact, despite persevering through the years in praying, declaring, waiting, resting, standing, and basically doing everything I know to do to partner with God’s promises, often I have seen quite the opposite.
But even when I couldn’t see—I did hear. God Himself would speak to me. His word would speak to me. Others, whether through messages, songs, direct conversation, or whatever, would speak to me.
Then came a time that I didn’t see and I didn’t hear. Or at least I heard very little. And what I did hear—whether from Him or from others—was very, very generic and general.
But even when I couldn’t see, and didn’t hear, as a deep “feeler”—I did feel what I could not see or hear. I “felt” a connection to what God had promised. Those promises still moved me and stirred me. That felt sense of connection helped sustain me through many years of increasingly perplexing circumstances, with increasingly fewer specific confirmations of what God was doing.
Then the unthinkable happened—at least for me—and that “feeling” of connection to His specific promises diminished to the point of being almost nonexistent.
So what happens to a feeler who can no longer feel a connection to the promises of God?
That is when you learn to be still and KNOW He is God.
That about sums up where I’ve been recently. Although my natural senses have been more than a bit dialed down, I was finally beginning to see real life glimpses of breakthrough in natural circumstances. But even then, there were still many perplexities and impossibilities; many areas where those stubborn mountains hadn’t moved. Now, the current craziness of the world seems to have brought even that small amount of momentum to a standstill. I have no clue where things will go from here. Although I have a very deep conviction of what God is up to corporately, I’m not seeing, hearing, or feeling much of anything regarding His specific promises to me.
But I do KNOW He is still God.
That knowledge is more than enough. It’s enough because I can’t deny my history with Him. I can’t deny His faithfulness in every season. I can’t deny the constancy of His presence in my life—regardless of what I do or do not see, hear, or feel in any given moment.
However, the perplexity of the journey has made it increasingly difficult to share my heart with others. There is so much I don’t have adequate language for—things I can’t convey clearly because I don’t understand them clearly myself. Because I have put so much on the line by simply following Jesus where I believed He was leading, there is an often subtle, and sometimes not-so-subtle, accusation coming from those who genuinely care for me of “Where is your God?” But in clinging to that one foundational truth that He IS God, there is something I have come to understand:
It is up to Jesus to defend His name, not me.
And THAT kind of “knowing” removes a whole lot of pressure. My part is to simply believe and keep following—to the very best of my current understanding.
Do I always get it right? I’m pretty sure that’s a hard no. But here’s the thing …
I can stress myself out trying to prove my willingness to respond to the well-intended advice and perfectly logical suggestions of others, or I can rest in the words of the One who orders my steps.
I can drive myself crazy trying to lift myself to someone else’s interpretation of Scripture, or I can lift my gaze to heaven and seek hope in the face of Jesus.
I can spend time worrying about what I don’t understand, or I can be still and KNOW He is God.
I’m choosing to be still. I’m choosing to wait. I’m choosing to trust. I’m choosing to hope.
I’m choosing to believe.
Because when you KNOW He is God, you also know … eventually …
Faith WILL become sight.