I have noticed that lately, God seems to be ignoring me.
What I mean is that I seem to hear no response sometimes in answer to the “big prayers” I pray but get miracles in response to unanswered prayers.
This, I believe, is amazing. It’s how I know He knows things I simply do not know. Sees things I cannot see since I only see from my tiny perspective. Knows me better than I know myself. Loves me more than anyone.
Friends volunteered to mow my yard for me all summer long. A group of beloved people anonymously purchased a very expensive piece of equipment for me that’s allowed me to do some contract work from home. Someone paid my way to a retreat that came right after my divorce (talk about much-needed). A family member bought me tons of groceries when she knew I was trying to save money. My parents paid some of my legal expenses during my divorce and constantly assist me with home repairs.
Every one of these angels–people who came to me and helped without being asked for help–arrived and knew what I needed but had never asked for.
And He comes to me in the stillness. In the rain. When I’m falling asleep in front of a fire underneath the stars in my own little piece of the woods out here. Through the same natural phenomenon He’s used as our secret connection for the past 12 years.
Only God can do this over and over and over again. And He does this for me. Over and over and over again. Providing for me. Reaching out to me. Showing me beauty. Pulling me in. Protecting me. Holding even the ocean back.
There’s a poem I have loved since college by my former professor and wonderful poet Andrea Hollander Budy, “Why I Married Him.” I won’t include the whole poem (you should buy the book though), but the gist of it is that for me, it always referred to love between a man and a woman. That’s what it’s written about. It’s a beautiful love poem!
As I drove home the other night, God spoke to me through the lines of the poem and said, “Aren’t I like that to you?”
“And I knew that with him life would be
like that. Even on the calmest days
he’d stay up on his ten-foot chair
watching, ready to hold
even the ocean back.”
The answer is yes. Yes, You are–to me, You are.