Day 44: That Tiny Whispering Sound
I confess, I didn’t feel like going to Mass this morning. I had a sinus headache and, after travel to a wedding, I wanted to enjoy a quiet morning at home before starting orientation tomorrow morning. Plus, I’ve had more than the usual back-to-school thoughts on my mind since WVU announced its “Preliminary Recommendations” for “Academic Transformation” this week.
I went anyway. Listening dully through my headache, I heard an older man begin the first reading. It was the story of God calling Elijah in 1 Kings 19, a story I’ve never listened closely to. The lector read:
At the mountain of God, Horeb,
Elijah came to a cave where he took shelter.
Then the LORD said to him,
"Go outside and stand on the mountain before the LORD;
the LORD will be passing by."
A strong and heavy wind was rending the mountains
and crushing rocks before the LORD—
but the LORD was not in the wind.
After the wind there was an earthquake—
but the LORD was not in the earthquake.
After the earthquake there was fire—
but the LORD was not in the fire.
After the fire there was a tiny whispering sound.
When he heard this,
Elijah hid his face in his cloak
and went and stood at the entrance of the cave.
the Whisper
The few times in my life when I’ve heard a voice that seems to be from God, it has always come in a whisper - faint but clear, and clearly not my own thought.
For instance, about ten years ago I went through a phase of struggling against attending Mass regularly. I had a thousand other things I could be doing, of course. Besides, if I feel so much doubt and resistance, what spiritual good am I doing myself anyway? Why keep going through the motions? Maybe I should spend the time doing something that at least helps someone, like volunteering.
I could go around in my head like this for a long time, and I had been. Finally, one day I decided I would just surrender it to prayer.
A day or two later, as I was drifting between waking and sleeping, I heard a tiny voice - one with a different sound, a different source, than my usual consciousness, either waking or dreaming. This little voice said two small, unmistakable words: “Just go.”
The meaning was unmistakable. It doesn’t matter if you understand. It doesn’t matter if you feel prayerful or doubtful. What needs to happen will happen, but you have to be there to let it happen. Just go.