In the Silence, God Speaks...You would be amazed at what you hear

We saw it at the national cathedral. We saw it at Ground Zero. We’ve seen it at ball games, on Wall Street, and at memorial services. A moment of silence. A time when, as Mother Teresa said, “it is in the silence of the heart that God speaks.” Prayer, then, is not only speaking to God, but also listening to him.
There are times when to speak is to violate the moment … when silence represents the highest respect. The word for such times is reverence. 
Don’t worry about having the right words; worry more about having the right heart. It’s not eloquence he seeks, just honesty.
This was a lesson Job learned—the man in the Bible most touched by tragedy and despair. If Job had a fault, it was his tongue. He talked too much.
Not that anyone could blame him. Calamity had pounced on the man like a lioness on a herd of gazelles, and by the time the rampage passed, there was hardly a wall standing or a loved one living. Enemies had slaughtered Job’s cattle, and lightning had destroyed his sheep. Strong winds had left his partying kids buried in wreckage. 
Job knew what it was like to lose those he loved when the building collapsed.
Job hadn’t even had time to bury his children before he saw the leprosy on his hands and the boils on his skin. His wife, compassionate soul that she was, told him to “curse God and die.” His four friends came with the bedside manner of drill sergeants, telling him that God is fair, and pain is the result of evil, and as sure as two plus two equals four, Job must have some criminal record in his past to suffer so. 
Each had his own interpretation of God, and each spoke long and loud about who God is and why God had done what he had done. They weren’t the only ones talking about God. When his accusers paused, Job gave his response. Back and forth they went …
Job cried out.… (3:1)
Then Eliphaz the Temanite answered.… (4:1)
Then Job answered.… (6:1)
Then Bildad the Shuhite answered.… (8:1)
Then Job answered.… (9:1)
Then Zophar the Naamathite answered.… (11:1)
This verbal ping-pong continues for twenty-three chapters. Finally Job has enough of this “answering.” No more discussion-group chitchat. It’s time for the keynote address. He grips the microphone with one hand and the pulpit with the other and launches forth. For six chapters Job gives his opinions on God. This time the chapter headings read: “And Job continued,” “And Job continued,” “And Job continued.” He defines God, explains God, and reviews God. One gets the impression that Job knows more about God than God does!
We are thirty-seven chapters into the book before God clears his throat to speak. Chapter 38 begins with these words: “Then the Lord answered Job.” 
If your Bible is like mine, there is a mistake in this verse. The words are fine, but the typesetter used the wrong size type. The words should look like this: 
THEN THE LORD ANSWERED JOB! 
God speaks. Faces turn toward the sky. Winds bend the trees. Neighbors plunge into the storm shelters. Cats scurry up the trees, and dogs duck into the bushes. “Somethin’s a-blowin’ in, honey. Best get them sheets off the line.” God has no more than opened his mouth before Job knows he should have kept his sore one shut.
I will ask you questions, 
and you must answer me. 
Where were you when I made the earth’s foundation? 
Tell me, if you understand. 
Who marked off how big it should be? 
Surely you know! 
Who stretched a ruler across it? 
What were the earth’s foundations set on, 
or who put its cornerstone in place 
while the morning stars sang together 
and all the angels shouted with joy? (38:3–7)
God floods the sky with queries, and Job cannot help but get the point: Only God defines God. You’ve got to know the alphabet before you can read, and God tells Job, “You don’t even know the ABCs of heaven, much less the vocabulary.” For the first time, Job is quiet. Silenced by a torrent of questions.
Have you ever gone to where the sea begins 
or walked in the valleys under the sea? … 
Have you ever gone into the storehouse of the snow 
or seen the storehouses for hail … ? 
Job, are you the one who gives the horse its strength 
or puts a flowing mane on its neck? 
Do you make the horse jump like a locust? … 
Is it through your wisdom that the hawk flies 
and spreads its wings toward the south? (38:16, 22; 39:19–20, 26)
Job barely has time to shake his head at one question before he is asked another. The Father’s implication is clear: “As soon as you are able to handle these simple matters of storing stars and stretching the neck of the ostrich, then we’ll have a talk about pain and suffering. But until then, we can do without your commentary.”
Does Job get the message? I think so. Listen to his response. 
I am not worthy; I cannot answer you anything, 
so I will put my hand over my mouth. (40:4)
Notice the change. Before he heard God, Job couldn’t speak enough. After he heard God, he couldn’t speak at all. 
Silence was the only proper response. There was a time in the life of Thomas à Kempis when he, too, covered his mouth. He had written profusely about the character of God. But one day God confronted him with such holy grace that, from that moment on, all à Kempis’s words “seemed like straw.” He put down his pen and never wrote another line. He put his hand over his mouth.
The word for such moments is reverence. 
Jesus taught us to pray with reverence when he modeled for us “Hallowed be your name.” This phrase is a petition, not a proclamation. A request, not an announcement. “Be hallowed, Lord.” Do whatever it takes to be holy in my life. Take your rightful place on the throne. Exalt yourself. Magnify yourself. Glorify yourself. You be Lord, and I’ll be quiet.
The word hallowed comes from the word holy, and the word holy means “to separate.” The ancestry of the term can be traced back to an ancient word that means “to cut.” To be holy, then, is to be a cut above the norm, superior, extraordinary. The Holy One dwells on a different level from the rest of us. What frightens us does not frighten him. What troubles us does not trouble him.
I’m more a landlubber than a sailor, but I’ve puttered around in a bass boat enough to know the secret for finding land in a storm.… You don’t aim at another boat. You certainly don’t stare at the waves. You set your sights on an object unaffected by the wind—a light on the shore—and go straight toward it. The light is unaffected by the storm. 
By seeking God, you do the same. When you set your sights on our God, you focus on One who can overcome any storm life may bring. 
Like Job, you find peace in the pain. 
Like Job, you cover your mouth and sit still.
“Be still, and know that I am God” (Ps. 46:10 niv). This verse contains a command with a promise. 
The command? 
Be still.
Cover your mouth.
Bend your knees.
The promise? You will know that I am God. 
The vessel of faith journeys on soft waters. Belief rides on the wings of waiting.
In the midst of your daily storms, and in this storm that has swept over our country and even the entire world, make it a point to be still and set your sights on him. Let God be God. Let him bathe you in his glory so that both your breath and your troubles are sucked from your soul. Be still. Be quiet. Be open and willing. Take a moment to be still, and know that he is God.