Blustery Direction

The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.
-John 3:8


We just went through a few days of the strongest winds in state history. Tornadoes touching down, whole trees toppling, people clearing off their patios and anchoring anything they did not want removed by natural force. There were a few times I had to stop walking and brace myself, digging my shoes into the pavement to keep from flying away as I was pushed sideways from the swooping air. These wracking winds made me thankful for a strong foundation of a building to sleep in, for protection against the forces outside that howled throughout the night. But it also made me widely aware of the sheer power it possessed.

Wind. It comes in various forms- gentle, cooling, blustery, hurricane, a whisper. Sometimes it isn’t even present. Or is it, but we just can’t find it? As Nicholas Sparks wrote in A Walk to Remember: “Love is like the wind. You can’t see it but you can feel it.”

God is like that, too. He comes to us in the lightest of breezes, the stirring above us that tosses our hair and kisses our face. He prods us, pulling at our hearts until we, like the trees outside, bow to His calling.

But what of those moments when the air is still, and silence echoes around us? When we can’t decipher what He says or wonder why He shows no movement? We try and create our own wind tunnels, sprinting down the road attempting to generate a man-made pressure that leaves us soon after our steps slow. Then, we are left standing in our starting spot once again, with no wind in our sails. We listen, ears heavy from straining to hear the smallest of whistles. We wait.

And God answers. He makes His move, rushing in with typhoon-like strength that bowls us over quite unexpectedly. His voice swarms around us, swirling leaves and lives, and in His mighty power picks us up and sets us down miles from where we stood. Like Dorothy, our houses are tossed and twirled and land in some bright, bursting world- His kingdom inside our spirit. Reeling from the aftershock, we tentatively step into the new realm, which still rumbles with His presence.

Does this mean we cannot learn to hear Him in the mild moments, in the comforting draft that wraps around us, yet unable to see the wind storm approaching? No. But sometimes, when we feel no air upon us, it is then that God is working in the clouds, preparing a gale forced conversation where He will then reveal the wonders He has in store for us.

Be prepared for a hurricane, though. I experienced one just the other week, where after months of gently stirring my atmosphere, God spoke so prominently to me I could hear nothing except His plan for my life crashing into my heart. Sometimes we are too stubborn to listen and He unleashes a current so magnificent it bends us backwards until His commands are lassoed in our hearts. And we emerge from our storm cellars enlightened, shell shocked from the power displayed within us.


Prayer:
Lord, I cannot see You. But I know that You are there, sifting through my heart and speaking in the silence. Please let me listen, let me feel Your word blowing in the wind of life and learn to stand firm in each current reaching my way. Amen.