I love the LORD, because he hath heard my voice and my supplications. Because he hath inclined his ear unto me, therefore will I call upon him as long as I live. Psalm 116:1, 2
This is something I will never get over: that the Maker of heaven and earth listens to my voice--hath inclined his ear unto me--and that I can call upon him as long as I live. The reality of that casts out fear, brings peace. But an even greater reality is that He speaks to me. He not only listens; He speaks. And that reality is somehow even more effective at casting out fear, doubt, uncertainty. The only fear I have is that of noise. I hate noise. Hate it. The noise of a television, radio, ringing telephone, people talking about nothing. They are all intrusions.
Along those same lines, I was thinking of responding to something Ricoel wrote on a new blog site he started. Something about what do you see as your role in the Body? I know there are people who struggle with that, who are always searching for "the will of God for their lives". I don't wish to make fun of that, but that is not at all my experience or my understanding of Life. At least a few times a month, this verse comes to me:"David served his generation and slept with his fathers." How do you serve your generation? How are you all things to all people that you might save some? The only way to do that is to get up every morning and live through each day listening for His voice to guide you. That is the calling of each of us. Jesus one day was called to ride into Jerusalem to shouts of Hosanna; on another day He was called to spit on a blind man, on another to be spat upon, on another to call the Pharisees vipers, on another to stand before his accusers as dumb, on another to die.
Rachel announced this morning that Anjie will be home from Spain on Wednesday. My heart did thrill when I heard the news. We've missed her so much.
This morning on the way into Hattiesburg, Tim was telling me about a young fellow named Ernest who visits with him at one of his accounts and asks for snacks. I wish I could see him. From the description, I think it might be the Ernest I taught my first year of teaching.
