Jeremiah 33:3 tells us that if we call unto God, He will answer:
“Call to Me, and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know.” (Jeremiah 33:3, NIV)
And we believe this, as Christians. We know God hears us, and He answers. We have this faith that He is.
The problem comes when we don’t hear this answer. When God seems so silent it tortures us. When we were newer to our faith, we were used to experiencing Him more often. But now, He seems silent.
I personally experienced this kind of moment. I still do, sometimes. My prayers seem like they are not going anywhere. It feels like they stopped in mid-air and somehow didn’t make it to heaven.
Somehow it feels like He stopped looking at your messages. And, at this moment, it is so painful to know that He is silent through your pain.
He’s like a friend who forgets.
I know, He would never… I’m just saying that’s how it feels.
I remember one of my elementary days when I got selected for a drama club role in a Nutrition Month performance. It was not the main role. The role was just one of the talking nutritious foods from a dream of a boy who didn’t want to eat healthy foods.
I had one line back then: “I’m the tamarind, and I am sour!”
My family and friends got all excited, not because it was a big role (again, It was a one-liner) but because they saw me being excited about it.
The person that was so excited for me was my mother.
To summarize my relationship with my mother, I can say that she supports every dream I share with her. So, my enthusiasm to act was a big deal to her. Everything was a big deal to her when it came to my dreams and happiness.
My friends helped with my costume as the tamarind, while my older sister practiced my line with me. “I’m the tamarind, and I am sour!” And my mother always encouraged me by telling me that I could do it. She told me I could achieve anything I wanted because she believed in me.
The day of the play arrived, and I was so ready for the stage. This is gonna make my family and friends happy — especially my mother. I’m gonna prove she‘s right.
But, while I was on stage, I was looking for her.
I could not see her.
I know I had to do what we’d practiced, but it is hard to do that at the moment.
Where is she?
I continued with what she told me to do. I smiled at the audience with my chin up and confidently said my line.
They don’t have to see this struggle. They need to see the performance.
When the play was finished, my friends congratulated me on what I did. They were proud and congratulated the whole cast.
Outside, I saw my mother looking for me. The first thing that came to my mind was that she was late. I understood, to be honest. She was a street vendor back then, and sometimes she was caught in traffic or needed to sell all the products she was selling for us to have enough money to help support our father in paying for our education with our father. We had a rough life back then, so I do understand.
But the moment she asked, “Why did you hesitate?,” I knew she was there because I did hesitate with my line.
Nobody noticed my hesitation and my eyes looking for someone while on stage — or, at least no one cared… but her.
She knew what I practiced.
She knew how I would deliver that line.
She knew me.
She was there. I just didn’t see her.
I embraced her and said, “I wish I had done better than that!”
She replied, “You did great, and I am proud!”
We usually get caught up in moments like this with God. Sometimes we look at Him and can’t see or hear Him from the perspective we have.
Although we know what to do, for we already know the right thing, this moment discourages us.
That is fine. That is normal.
All we can do sometimes is to hold on to the relationship we have with God.
I did trust my mother and hold on to what she said before I stood up for the play. How much more should we trust in the eternal promises of God, our everlasting Father?
I do think that He is silent sometimes because He doesn’t want us to rely on our senses and emotions. He wants us to have faith in Him.
And, sometimes, faith does not require pieces of evidence; it requires a relationship.
This moment is our stage, wherein we stand in our faith and all the excitement and praise over our ability is silent — where we are asked the one question, “Will you do the right thing?”
This is the stage where all the support that we have is nothing but a memory. Where our emotions are only fear. Where we feel alone in front of a thousand eyes.
What do we need to do?
We do His will. We do what He called us to do.
Christians, we do what we practiced.
“I am the tamarind, and I am sour!” is my simple reminder of what my mother instructed me to do. Even though I did not see her, nor did I believe she was watching, I did what we practiced because that was the thing that would make her proud.
God instructed us to love. And, unlike my mother, He is omnipresent. We believe this, even if we don’t feel Him there. And doing what He commanded will bless His name. That is our goal. Our goal is to worship Him.
We do what we practiced. We will love.
It is hard to hear God when we are on a stage with someone who doesn’t love us back or someone who persecutes us— we do what we practiced; we will love.
It is hard to hear God when we are on a stage where we feel like nobody will help us — we do what we practiced; we trust in Him.
It is hard to hear God when we keep on failing — we do what we practiced; we claim victory in Jesus' Name!
In the end, those stages will never be gone. Those moments will keep on coming and coming until we are called into the presence of God.
At some point where we failed to trust Him, where we hesitated, we will say, “I wish I did better!”
But I know my God.
I know my Father.
If I keep on trying and stand up in faith, I will hear His blessed version of my mother’s line back then:
‘…Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness!’ … (Matthew 25:21, NIV)