My heart wants to write. My mind wants to write. I find much joy in putting pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) and pouring out my heart, mind, and soul onto the page. But sometimes I prepare myself, I set aside a hefty block of time in my schedule, I pray, and I sit down to my computer, and there’s nothing there. The words just won’t come.

I pray some more. I think about what I’ve journaled lately. My journaling is usually more rambling than actual “writing”. I hope that today I can find within it some inspiration worth sharing. Oftentimes a blog post begins on the pages of my journal. But today, there’s nothing. Nada. Zilch.

I’ve recently begun calling myself a writer. Not an author, as I’ve not yet published anything. But I am a writer. It’s what I do. What I’m passionate about. It’s what I believe God has called me to do. So why is this so hard????

Have you ever felt that way? Have you seen your goal or dream in the distance, perhaps even taken steps toward it, but felt like it stayed just beyond the horizon, the distance between you and your desired destination never seeming to lessen?

I believe words are God’s gift to me. The Bible makes it clear that God gives good gifts to His children. James 1:17 tell us: “Whatever is good and perfect is a gift coming down to us from God our Father, who created all the lights in the heavens…. (Common English Bible). So why does it feel at times that God is withholding something good from me? What is the purpose of this silence?

I remember when my young family lived in California back in the 90s. We desperately wanted to be back in the South, close to our families. My health was on very shaky ground. I deal with an illness that is largely impacted by dehydration, so the desert climate is not my friend! In those early days following diagnosis, I was still learning how to manage my illness, and failing miserably. (I’m back in the desert again, but much more in tune with what my body needs to function.)

Our various and sundry attempts at seeking employment in the land of rain and humidity met with failure. My health continued to present new challenges. And God seemed to be silent.

All we wanted was a clear answer. Do we stay or do we go? My husband used to say “I wish God would just leave note on the dresser! We’ll do whatever He tells us!” But the silence persisted.

Then one day, the silence ended. We didn’t discover the magic formula. We didn’t have just the right amount of faith. We didn’t read that one scripture that suddenly made everything clear. We didn’t find a note on the dresser. It just ended. We knew what we needed to do. We began moving forward again, no longer stuck in “paralysis by analysis” mode. We simply put one foot in front of the other.

We never discovered the reason for God’s silence during that time. His ways are higher than ours (Isaiah 55:8-9), and He is not obligated to explain anything to us.

Neither do I know the purpose of God’s silence today as I try to write. Oh, wait! Would you look at that?!! There are over 600 words on the page!

Is it simply me? Or do you at times hear “crickets” when what you desire is clear answers, clear direction? How do you deal with the frustration of silence?