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If Only . . .
rebecca@rebeccafussell.com
If only . . .
That's a loaded statement.
If only
I hadn’t eaten all those M&M’s, I’d be 20 pounds lighter.
If only I’d paid more attention when my kids were small, we’d all have sweeter memories.
If only I hadn’t bought that or spouted off or . . .
You fill in the blank.
But what about this one: If only God would . . .
How many times have I said that?
I’m praying for things today that feel close to impossible. I’ve run out of words or even ideas of how else to pray. (Like God needs my ideas. Ha!)
I keep thinking if only God would do a miraculous, showy act. You know, some kind of lightning strike to cause people to look up and surrender to Him.
Not a strike
on
anyone, just near them to get their attention. Then they’ll know He’s real and He alone is the answer.
But I was reminded of a great truth, recently.
Remember God’s prophet Elijah on Mount Carmel? The Bible tells us two altars were built,
one to the god of Baal and the other to the God of Heaven.
The prophets of Baal danced around and begged their god to do something amazing to light his altar with fire, but to no avail.
Elijah’s turn.
He prayed to the true God.
Guess what happened? Here's a quick reminder. A lightning strike fireball fell from Heaven and consumed God’s altar in a flash.
But how about this for a surprise. Even after all that, none of those prophets turned to God. Not one.
Elijah eventually ends up in a cave somewhere.
Alone.
Hiding.
In this hideout, he literally wants to die.
The fire from Heaven thing wasn’t the only big event God had asked him to be a part of, and yet none of those things seemed to have any lasting impact on the people he’d been asked to reach.
Oh sure, in the moment, the by-standers bowed down proclaiming, “the Lord is God”,
but it didn’t last into their everyday lives.
I imagine Elijah doesn’t know what to do. He’s like, “God. I’ve done what You’ve asked me, and still I’m the only one who truly believes in you. I mean, if the people won’t listen after the fireball… golly gee, its hopeless.
And where are you by the way?”
I see his point, right?
But listen to what happens next.
God tells him to go stand on the mountain so he could see the Lord pass by. First came a terrible wind that broke the rocks.
Being a Floridian, I’ve been through a few hurricanes. They’re frightening. And never have I been so aware of my lack of control.
But as Elijah ducked for cover, God was not in the wind.
Next came an earthquake. I don’t have any experience with those, but I can only imagine how threatening it must be.
Still, no God.
After the earthquake, a fire. Except the Lord wasn’t in the fire either.
But get ready
for this line: “And after the fire, a still small voice.”
A still small voice?
Yep. That’s where God was.
Apparently, the big brouhaha is not enough.
Nope. We also need the quiet whispers of the Almighty God.
So, I’ve changed my prayer these days.
If I desire true lasting life change, I’m asking for God’s still small voice to ring out loud and clear
to those I love, to my beloved country, for God’s Kingdom and for my own fragile heart.
I know it’s crazy out there right now. Maybe you’d join me first in just listening for His voice ourselves. I want His presence to be near in our hearts.
Then let’s pray for God to whisper deep into the souls of those we love and those who do not yet know Him.
Ask Him to wake people up at night, ride in the car with them, or whisper to them while they’re going for a run.
I don’t understand how He draws people and changes hearts. I only know He does, and He uses His still small voice to do it.
Dear Jesus, we need you. Change us. Teach us. Guide us. In these wacked out times, let us rest in knowing this: You, my Father, are near.
Let us listen for You not just in the miraculous but in quiet moments too. In the middle of the night when we jolt awake with an onslaught of fear or when we hear the news or walk out to the mailbox, may we remember You’re speaking, still and small.
If only . . . I will stop long enough to listen.
Hope & Glory to You
Love,
Rebecca
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