A Quieter Season

 

Some seasons in the Spirit feel active. Maybe you're dealing with a major life challenge or change, and God is speaking a lot and guiding you through. He sees you to the other side. And that season comes to a close. 

Comparatively, the new season is quieter. That of course doesn't mean God is farther away, but we may think He is. I wonder if that's why people tend to follow Jesus closer in crisis but drift away in peace or plenty. It's not always that they make the disastrous mistake of saying, "Thanks for the help, God, I've got this now." It's that they don't sense His voice as often. They aren't constantly getting a new word. The excitement--even if it was negative excitement--has died down. But this isn't the time for drifting, boredom, or taking stability for granted. It's time for abiding, not urgency.

I've sensed this now as I've moved deeper into life as a Bible student. It's time to honor this written word that God entrusted to us--to me! To show up daily and absorb what He's already said to me, some 2000-4000 years before I was born. To mature and enter into fruit-bearing as a way of life, not as a string of sporadic moments. And here, in these quieter seasons, is where faith is exercised and strengthened, so that we trust and know that God is as close to us, as active on our behalf, as faithful as He's ever been and ever will be, even if our life isn't loud right now. Now is when we return to our first love and press into His presence rather than let things drift. God may have initiated relationship with us by sending Jesus to die while we were yet sinners, but now we're in relationship and it's a two-way street.

If you feel like you're in a dry season, maybe it's actually a quiet season. A season of establishing what He's already given you, a season of rest, steadiness, clarity, or simply appreciating and learning more about who God is and not only what God does. I believe the main thrust of the Bible is that God wants to give us a home with Him, and all the peace, refuge, safety, and togetherness that "home" implies. The quiet, where life will never again be a seesaw. As a fan of quiet seasons in general, I'm embracing mine.