A voice said, “Shout!” I said, “What shall I shout about?” – Isaiah 40:6
There is so much change. People are moving, dying and alternating. Doors are closing before new one’s are opened. Like a butterfly trapped in an unrelenting cocoon. The silence is deafening and the fear of being forgotten is the only palpable certainty.
Doubt blankets like the night full of stars who are more important than you. Uncertainty is the breeze moving blades of grass to a tune that is kept secret from you. Jilt is the faint sounds of a party you were not invited to.
Believing the promise gets harder and harder because the echo fades. God wants us to trust Him and it seems so easy until He slips out while you’re napping beneath an apparatus of wind-up possibilities. A toddler trapped in a crib behind a closed door. The silence is a reminder of sung-out dreams.
Why would you ever complain… or whine… saying, “God has lost track of me. He doesn’t care what happens to me”? Don’t you know anything? Haven’t you been listening? God doesn’t come and go. God lasts… He doesn’t get tired out, doesn’t pause to catch his breath. – Isaiah 40:27-28
The God who ‘scoops up the ocean in his two hands‘, ‘measures the sky between his thumb and finger‘ and ‘marches his army of stars out each night‘ is speaking to us. He’s saying, ‘Comfort, oh comfort, my people.’
We are waiting, not forgotten. We are gaining strength, not missing out.