Tag: crying

Voices in the Wilderness

Jennifred Jones

Have you ever had something you thought was important to say, that needed to be said, that no one else was saying, but needed to be heard?

It would help people if they could hear it, it could change the direction of their life, but they were nowhere near you, you didn’t even know who they were, you couldn’t summon them to hear your words, and frankly, they probably wouldn’t even recognize what you had to say was for them.

Just a voice…a voice out in the wilderness -being absorbed only by the mossy bark on the trees and getting soaked up by the fallen leaves and tramped on.

We live in a big wilderness it seems, yet there are many voices calling out to us.

Many of the voices are loud, clamoring, demanding for attention. They hackle, yell, demean, shame, put-down, confuse, conflict, and torment, and cause us to worry and fear. They even try to make us think bad thoughts about and hate other people-including ourselves!

But, if we keep walking, keep listening and get where it is quiet again, and really listen, we can hear a still small voice saying, ‘this is the way, walk in it’. It will be unassuming, patient, kind, gentle, leading, guiding, encouraging, hopeful, filled with wisdom; it might even be a gentle warning, but it will cause us to be at peace and rest– not filled with turmoil when we hear it. It will inspire us to do good and think good about other people.

I have heard all of these voices. I have heard the voice of fear and worry and shame and hate, but I have also heard the voice of kindness, grace, hope and peace. I hear them every day in my walk through the wilderness of life.

I know what each of them feels like and what it does to me when I pay heed.

The choice is mine, which voices I choose to listen to.

Some are so tempting and convincing — to entice me to worry and fret about something I have no control over—which is about everything.

I am choosing to listen to the quiet voice. I choose to listen for the voice that wants to give me hope and cause me to do good and noble things.  I choose that, although it is harder to hear and follow, that is what I choose. Sometimes I get off the path and start listening to the louder voices, but my quest is to listen for the still small voice in the wilderness…the one that will lead me through to the clearing on the other side.

Who knows, maybe someone else that I cannot see is behind me – lost in the wilderness – and cannot hear the still small voice — but will follow my footsteps and make it through.

 

Helping one can help many

Jennifred Jones

Yesterday, at church, our pastor prayed for all the people hurt or affected in any way by the recent horrific earthquake in Nepal.

Today as I looked at pictures of distraught people desperately looking for missing members of their families, I remembered several Asian Indians who own the gas station in my neighborhood. I have met and talked with them at other times and knew they had family over in that area, and the thought came that I should check about their families.

When I asked if his family was alright, the owner said, “Yes, thank God!” I was immediately relieved, but noticed the look of gravity on his face because of the effect on their home country land.

Returning home, I thought, “I cannot go over there and help physically, I know of no immediate way to get relief to the region, what can I do to help?”

Besides praying for them, the thought occurred to bake something and take to them as a small tangible token of compassion and care on my behalf for them and their suffering people.

They like spicy foods, so my cranberry-orange scones sounded like a good recipe to use, and I took them back to the gas station while they were still warm from the oven, and hoped there wouldn’t be anybody in line… so I could talk to them.

The store looked empty inside and I handed him my cranberry scone gift and told him that since I couldn’t go over there to help and didn’t know what else to do to ease the suffering, I was giving them this small token to let them know I cared about them and their people.

It was a heartfelt moment between two people, two different nationalities, bonding as fellow human beings with like concerns about family, life, suffering and compassion.

He was touched, I felt like crying just from the emotion of the moment, and as I turned to leave, I noticed a line of people had come in behind me, no doubt observing the whole thing. I tried quietly to get out the door.

It was back to business as usual.

Only the love of God can cause something beautiful to come from something ugly like an earthquake.