Several months ago I realized I’d stopped hearing God. I’d gotten so deep into the busy work of my calling that I just didn’t notice the absence until the silence became deafening. I began to occasionally pray for some sort of indication that I wasn’t alone and that I was still on the right path, but things were going fairly smoothly, so I wasn’t too concerned. Weeks passed and still, radio silence.
In the meantime, awful things happened. The Pulse massacre. The shootings of Philando Castille and Alton Sterling. I was strong for friends until there was nothing left. I felt tapped out, emptied, and still God was nowhere to be found. Read More →