- Firstly, that there is an ocean of powerful attentiveness in God’s love for us, with all the depth, width, height and power of that immensity. God is more attentive than any human person could be to every small desire of our hearts. I prayed with strength last week for a situation that worried me. And yesterday I sensed Him say: “You asked. I heard you”, as if surprised that I was relieved it had been resolved. Did I doubt it? Did I think it was too small, or insignificant for God to notice? But there is no ‘too small’, when you love. Every detail, everything that someone you care for wants becomes nearly like a demand, if at all possible to make happen. Is God going to love any less attentively? No movement of our hearts goes unnoticed.
- The second's an intuition: could we be ‘gatekeepers’ of God’s voice for others? When I see a person who can pray, who can taste God's presence, I find it thrilling. Is this why? Is that what the prophet part of our Baptismal identity means? People have a need for that inner door to God’s presence to be opened, unlocked. And perhaps part of the gift of prayer is to be called to mediate, to echo, to be a human ‘voice that cries’ or speaks, or at least evokes the whisper of God’s passionate love for us waits, patiently, to say. Scary but wonderful, if true... blessed are the gentle.
Lately I feel drawn to blank pages and dark empty spaces…places where I can breathe, and hear, and sense, without much noise. And I know God indwells all things, and I have often sensed Jesus presence in the midst of ministry and service with little sleep, but right now it is the whisper that echoes with more strength within me (1 Kings 19:12), and I thirst for it. What is it about gentleness? What is it about a quiet word, or presence that does not impose and yet opens doors, simple everyday ones, or others which have been under lock and key for years? Because that’s often how I experience God in prayer – truthful, but in a way that seems to reveal what I never realized I knew… or could have known as it simply makes sense. I have spent a week meandering in and around these thoughts… and two things have emerged with quite a lot of strength: