I felt a bit frustrated when I read these words. David asked God a question and got a direct answer! A few verses later, he asked again, because his men didn’t quite trust God the way David did, and God answered directly again. He made it very clear that He wanted David to save the people of Keilah.
But how unfair! I’ve asked God for direct answers, for absolute clarity. Which book project should I focus on? Should I continue to self-publish or try the traditional route? Which house should we rent in our next location?
Mike and I agonized over that last one for weeks. I kept hoping that God would make the perfect house in the perfect neighborhood glow for us or something.
We researched. We prayed. We made a decision. We’re moving forward by faith.
By faith. As opposed to hearing an audible voice or seeing a neon sign glow or even having a deep peace within.
Sometimes God is silent.
When the movers came to pack up our stuff for this move, a three-day process, we continued to live in the house. On the first day, one of the packers grabbed all of the night lights and packed them together in one box. I admire her organizational skills. I probably would have done the same thing.
Problem is, I tend to be a bit of an insomniac (my husband would tell you that’s a bit of an understatement), and I’ve learned that when I wake up in the night, getting up and taking a quick lap around the house helps me fall back to sleep more quickly than lying in bed staring into nothingness.
Have you ever tried to take a lap around your house . . . full of boxes . . . in the dark . . . without even any night lights? It’s kind of like living by faith. It was a bit of a problem that first night.
So you can understand why reading these verses frustrated me. Sometimes I would really like it if God would answer me verbally. I’m not asking for great illumination . . . a night light would be enough. But He continues to let me stumble through the dark. I asked Him about this. How I am supposed to know the right path to take when God refuses to speak up?
The thought came to me, no audible voice, just a thought in my head that could have been my own or placed there by God’s Spirit – I believe the latter but have no proof, that maybe it isn’t always about finding the “right” path, that maybe it doesn’t matter to God which project I pursue first or which house I choose to live in. He knows what the outcome will be either way and how to lead me based on whatever decision I make. Maybe living by faith, prayerfully making decisions that matter, is more about prayerfully making the decision, seeking to do what I believe God wants me to do, and trusting Him come what may. It’s stumbling through the dark, trusting God to gently nudge the “more than I can handle” troubles out of my way – or to gently nudge me toward safety or even through whatever peril He allows. It’s talking to Him and listening for answers and doing my best for Him, knowing He’s doing what’s best for me and those around me as I do.
It’s a harder way to live, but maybe it strengthens me. I know it keeps me talking to God, and I know that’s a good thing.
Interestingly enough, as I continued to read through 1 Samuel 23, I discovered that after David and his men rescued the people of Keilah, they heard that Saul was coming to town. David asked God what to do. God told him that the people of Keilah were going to turn him over to Saul to protect themselves. (Nice, people. Real nice.)
So even after God gave David clear instructions, David ran into trouble. And God knew he would and steered David safely away. I guess even clear answers, should God choose to give them, are no guarantee that things will go the way we want them to. But either way, we can know God sees what’s coming and watches out for us. It was His Will that David rescue the people of Keilah. It was His Will that David live to be king. His purposes were accomplished then, as they will be today. That is something we can believe!
Father, I’m doing my best, and I believe You’re leading me – even when You refuse to do so audibly or even by granting me absolute certainty. Thank You for Your Presence. Thank You for Your love. Thank You for teaching me to live by faith. Amen.
For more lessons from moving, I invite you to read my book on this topic, Home Is Where God Sends You: Lessons in Contentment from Nearby and Faraway.