Still Small Voice

It seems wrong that God should be so difficult to hear. This is, after all, the Creator of Heaven and Earth, the single and supreme first Principal, the Ground of all Being we're talking about. Shouldn't it be, well, more obvious that God is trying to talk to us? Some thunder and lightning, maybe an earthquake or volcano, a whirlwind: that would get our attention, wouldn't it? But, instead, nothing. Silence. An absolute absence of anything even remotely resembling a voice.

I know, I've been listening. Or, at least, trying to. Sitting there, day after day in my centering prayer, trying to hear...what? Something other than the continuous rush of my own thoughts. Something other than myself talking to myself. But instead there's been nada. Zip. No contact. What did I expect? Truth to tell, not much, really. Which is not to say that I don't have hopes. Wouldn't it be nice, just once in my life, to have the feeling of being touched by God? Of God's being there with me, like in all those inspirational posters with the footprints in the sand, walking beside me all along. "Oh, but He is," you say. "You just need to pay attention." Aha! So that's it, is it? But pay attention to what? I can't hear anything.

Two days from now it will have been eight years since the airplanes crashed into the WTC Towers. Do you remember the day after that, how quiet it was? Here in Hyde Park, we live under the flight path to Midway Airport; planes fly overhead all the time, every day. Except that day, September 12, 2001. That day, the skies were silent. Strange to say, however, prior to that day, I had never noticed how noisy it was. Sure, the occasional jet engine catches your attention, but only now and then. Who knew that the planes were there all the time? Until they weren't.

It occurs to me that maybe God's voice is like the airplanes. It's not that He's not speaking to us, it's rather that He is trying to get our attention all the time, but because it's so constant, we simply don't hear. God's voice as the Great Hum of the Universe, like the traffic along Lake Shore Drive. It's there, but we don't hear it because it is simply "background noise." After all, it's been there our whole life, loving, caring, watching over us. The hen taking her chicks under her wing, holding them close to her heart. Do the chicks hear her heart? Are they conscious of the fact that she loves them?

It must be frustrating being God, having One's loved ones ignoring One all the time.


  1. I have just begin a careful reading of "From Judgment to Passion" in preparation for a short course on Mary I will be teaching. I followed the internet trail to your website, and find it delightful and moving.

    My youngest grandson was born on 9/11. When my wife and I visited my daughter and son-in-law to meet the newest member of the family that night, they told us that in response to that terrible day they named their son Lucas, bearer of light.

  2. What a wonderful choice of names for your grandson! I hope that he has a very happy birthday tomorrow!

    And, welcome, I'm so happy to learn that you've enjoyed visiting my site. Best of luck with your course!


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