Voices. Some voices I hear too often, like the constant three-and-a-half-year-old storytime intermixed with eighteen month old almost-words. Don’t get me wrong—I love my hilarious ladies and am grateful that I was able to conceive, give birth, and watch these incredible little women grow—but sometimes it is overwhelmingly loud. And then there’s my own voice – I’m not sure I ever shut up! (No comments necessary on that one.) I pursue, even crave or weep after, other voices though: God, my mentors and spiritual mamas and papas, my husband Jeff, dear friends. Recently the microphone on my cell has been pooping out. I keep getting told no one can understand me on the phone. In a way it has cause me to realize 1) how necessary a functioning phone is today and 2) how much we long for clear voices. This Lenten season, as in all seasons, I have many questions as my family pursues new things and continues to understand our call here on the farm, St. John’s parish, and North-Central Indiana in general. I long for God to just pick up the phone and give me an answer. It must just be that God’s microphone is broken too! But Lord knows I’d be less likely to follow if it were that easy—take for example lying, or lust, or coveting. Those are clearly no-nos but I fall into them easily. But when I quiet myself and listen slowly, clarity is sometimes revealed.
Today’s challenge: live without clarity in a broken microphone world. I guess you would call that trust.