Everybody, Always

hundred and twenty.
The whole time all of this was happening, I was thinking this:
Land. The. Plane.
God isn’t always leading us to the safest route forward but to the one
where we’ll grow the most. I knew Adam well enough to know he could
land the plane. I’d seen him do it a hundred times in more open waters. I
had already told him everything I knew about it. He didn’t need any more
instructions; he just needed to see I believed in him enough to let him do
it. He didn’t need more words or to know what they meant in Greek or
Hebrew. He just needed an opportunity.
The people who have shaped my faith the most did the same for me.
They didn’t try to teach me anything; they let me know they trusted me.
And that taught me everything. Those moments are forever etched into
who I am. I think God does the same with us.
I’ve heard a lot of people say they wish they could hear from God
about this or that. Maybe they mean they want to hear His audible voice.
I’m not sure. I don’t think literally hearing something is what most of us
are after. What we actually want is that extra nudge of confidence from
God and the opportunity to move forward courageously to do those things
we already know how to do. What a shame it would be if we were waiting
for God to say something while He’s been waiting on us to do something.
He speaks to me the loudest on the way. Simply put, if we want more
faith, we need to do more stuff.
Part of me really understands people’s hesitation. There have been
times when I wanted to hear God’s voice—particularly, when something
really big mattered to me. The sad truth is, I’m often making too much
racket to hear Him. He won’t try to shout over all the noise in our lives to
get our attention. He speaks most clearly in the stillness desperation
brings.
I’ve also come to see the purpose and beauty in God’s silence. It’s
like He’s telling me He knows my heart’s desires and what I’m thinking.
He knows what He’s taught me. He’s seen when I’ve succeeded and when