Several weeks ago, here in Alaska, we experienced a 7.1 earthquake piggybacked with a sisterly 6.4 quake.
And as things in motherhood often go – such as sick children, bursting pipes, and plugged toilets, this particular rumbling from the depths occurred in the middle of the night (1:30 a.m. to be exact), and left us, for lack of another word, feeling shaken.
As soon as the house stopped shuddering and pulsating, my protective mama instincts jumped into high gear. Without really thinking about what I was doing, I started murmuring prayers of, You, O Lord, are a shield about me, as I calmed my rattled children and prepared them for a possible aftershock. And as my husband had just had knee surgery, I knew I needed to run and grab emergency cold-weather essentials from the garage in case we needed to vacate. The clock was ticking.
In the midst of the chaos, my son (who likes to know the plan for all of life) started peppering us with questions: “Okay, where is our emergency meeting place? And if it happens again, what do you want us to do? Do we need to get the cars out of the garage? I mean, are they safe out there? Do we have enough food in the pantry? And what if the power goes out? Maybe we should sleep downstairs.”
And as his questions rang forth, I told him he only needed to do one thing. Just listen for his dad’s voice. Dad would instruct us in what we needed to do. At the right time. In the right way.
His only job was to do that one little thing: LISTEN.
And now as I mull over what happened, I am challenged by this truth of heeding. To listen, and listen well. For that’s all we really need to do as children of the Most High. Listen and respond accordingly.
We don’t need to stress out about tomorrow and what may or may not happen. We don’t need to panic in regard to our 5-year plan. Or our 10-year plan. We just need to listen. Listen for our Father’s voice. The One who breathed life into us. The One who with mere words, spoke the world into being.
We make things so complicated. Wanting all our ducks in their proper rows. Having our game plans and desiring for things to be done in a certain sequence.
And yet, our Father, who knows best, is waiting. He’s waiting for us to stop running around, to stop talking and asking all the laborious questions. He’s waiting for us to listen. Listen to His voice. Listen to His heart.
That night, even though the earth was shaking and the lights were swinging, somehow my children weren’t afraid. They know their eternal destiny. They are firm in their love for the Lord. In fact, my son, when he was finally headed back to bed summed it up beautifully in saying, “I guess God must have thought we needed to be reminded of His power.”
Yes we do, my son. Every day. Every hour. Oh how we need Him.
Sweet mama, may the storms that threaten to rock your world today not scare you in the least, but simply put you in awe of His power. For the victory is all His. The world is firmly in His grasp. We know the unmovable unchangeable all-powerful truth.
And we will not be shaken.