God, is that You or am I schizophrenic?

The past two weeks, our youth group has been talking about faith. This week’s small group led to some pretty interesting discussion as I asked my girls for some examples of people in the Bible who had faith. In order to help the girls grasp the concept that they can have faith like these heroes of old, I tried to expose some flaws in these characters. Their doubts, their fears, their struggles… Basically, their humanity. At the mention of Moses, I expressed my gratitude that I’m not the only one who argues with God.

“You can’t argue with God,” one of my students laughed. “He doesn’t talk back.”

Oh, He talks back. Trust me, sweetheart, He does talk back. I know this because I have argued with God and He has answered me. But only after I learned to listen for His voice. Only after I knew enough about the character of God that I could recognize that still, small voice as more than a passing thought.

But I guess the one thing we proved in small group this week is that, if God doesn’t talk back, I’m a schizophrenic.

And so am I!

Shh, be quiet you.

Whoa, sorry about that. But seriously, how many times do you suppose we brush off God’s voice thinking that our imagination has run wild? How many times have you heard someone say, “God doesn’t speak now like He did then”? If God can’t still reveal Himself in a burning bush or a big cloud or a still, small voice that whispers soft but clear, why does the Bible say that “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever”? (Hebrews 13:8) Why are we so hesitant to believe that God talks back? Is it because we haven’t attuned our hearts to listen?

No, it’s not an audible voice, and yes, sometimes it feels more like a thought. But sometimes that “feeling” is more like a certainty. Sometimes that “thought” is just as clear as anything audible could ever be. If the definition of faith is “being certain of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1), I have faith that I can also be certain of things not heard.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to argue with God over yet another one of His harebrained assignments. Though, I’m not sure why I bother. He always wins in the end.

That’s right I do.

Ahem. But He doesn’t always get the last word.