A lot of times, I hear people mention the still, small voice of Jesus, prompting them to learn a lesson, to change a pattern, to step out in faith.
That’s nice. With me, Jesus typically has to yell.
I’m not so good at growing in the still, quiet moments. My mind is crowded these days, filled to the brim with the million transitions that accompany new seasons, with wedding dates & budget plans & project deadlines. Sometimes, those things speak louder than the most important ones.
And I’m stubborn. Even when the whispers of Jesus reach my ears, they don’t always fall into receptive places in my heart. As I flip through the pages of my prayer journal, I can’t help but shake my head at the still, small voices I missed. Or ignored. You know, the little warning lights that are blinding in hindsight: “Check heart soon.” But I’m not a car that needs minor tune-ups; I’m a soul that needs sanctifying for the rest of my days. I don’t need a speed bump. I need a retaining wall.
The good thing about retaining walls is that they’re effective. The bad thing about retaining walls is that I usually run into them at full speed, leaving my stubborn soul with scrapes and bruises. Because, like I said — I’m stubborn. I’ll run until I can’t anymore. I used to be angry when I found myself nursing those wounds. But little by little, I’m seeing the beauty in a little bit of hurt now that saves me from a lifetime of hurt just around the corner I was barreling toward.
When life drowns out the still, small voice & stubbornness propels me over the speed bumps, I’m thankful that my Jesus loves my messy heart enough to yell, that he takes time to build walls. Believe me, because I’m speaking from much experience — there is no place He will not go to reach you, friend. He’s not afraid of your mess. He’s not overwhelmed by your stubbornness. He will gather bricks & mortar, He will reach for bigger megaphones, & He will never stop pursuing you. Thank goodness that sometimes, grace looks like a retaining wall.