When Silence Still Speaks
Howdy, friend, I’m so thankful that you stopped by here today. So, come on up to this ol’ front porch and settle yourself right down. I’ve been waitin’ to tell you a story that’s plum richer than cornbread baked in a cast iron skillet and steadier than a lil’ ol’ barn cat that plum refuses to retire from mouse huntin’. Some seasons of faith feel like tryin’ to convince a stubborn ol’ goat that the grass ain’t actually any greener on the other side of the fence. You wave, you plead, you pray, and that ol’ goat just stares at you like it’s ponderin the mysteries of the universe. That’s sho’-nuff’ why Psalm 27:14 matters so much when it says, “Wait on the Lord, be of good courage, and He shall strengthen thine heart.” And tucked right beside it, Isaiah 30:18 reminds us that the Lord waits to be gracious. And just to sweeten the pot a lil’ more, Lamentations 3:25 says, “The Lord is good unto them that wait for Him, to the soul that seeketh Him.” Waitin’ ain’t no kind of weakness. Waitin’ is real holy work.
Now friend, we preach and teach about Hannah, who prayed several years before baby Samuel arrived. We preach and teach Abraham, who waited twenty-five years for baby Isaac. But hardly anybody ever preaches or teaches about Anna, that faithful widow and prophetess, who prayed sixty long years before she saw Jesus with her own eyes in the temple at Jerusalem. Luke 2:36-38 gives her only three lil’ verses, yet she carried decades of devotion and anticipation. She served night and day, fasting and praying, like a lil’ woodland owl perched faithfully on the same branch year after year, watchin for the comin of dawn. She wasn’t just waitin. She was keepin watch.
I came upon her story during a season when I felt like a failure. I had prayed for my own children for so long that the silence started soundin’ plum like judgment. I looked around at other mothers whose children sat beside them in church and felt like the least faithful one in the whole buildin’. Then, Anna’s story stepped into my own story and asked a question of my heart that turned everything upside down. While Anna waited, God was shapin’ her heart, equippin’ her for His mission, and preparin’ her to be a witness to His glory. Her “sixty years” became a foundation for her prophetic role in the life of Jesus. What if the length of your waitin ain’t the measure of your failure? What if some of us are “Annas”, called to be real faithful and trustin’ in God while on a long watch?
There’s plum more than one kind of prayer. There’s the authority prayer for what’s under your roof. There’s the warfare prayer for spiritual battles. And there’s the prophetic intercession, the “Anna” kind, where you stand faithfully before God prayin’ for someone with free will. You pray for years while honorin’ the choice God Himself refuses to override. I’d been prayin’ like my children were still children, commandin’ outcomes over grown adults with their own will. It wasn’t weak faith. It was usin’ the wrong kind of weapon.
Anna knew the right thing to do. So did Daniel in Daniel 10:12-13, fastin’ twenty-one days while the angels battled. So did Paul in Second Corinthians 12:8-9, askin’ God to heal his affliction three different times and receivin’ a holy, “No,” answer. What they carried was intercessory longevity, the strength to keep right on prayin’ even when the battle is measured in years, not just weeks.
Friend, your long prayers ain’t proof of failure. They might be proof that you’re an “Anna” type that wasn’t thinkin’ about or even realizin’ that you needed to be prepared for that kind of battle.
Father, strengthen my heart as I wait. Teach me the kind of prayer that honors Your timing and trusts Your goodness. Help me stand faithfully before You with courage and hope. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.
Now then, friend, you’ve gotta be rememberin’ to take this notion with you as you leave out today. Long waitin’ ain’t no kind of wasted waitin. It’s plum like a river carvin’ a canyon, real slow but real powerful. It’s like a lantern glowin’ through the night, real steady and sure. It’s like a faithful old hound dog that stays by the door until its master returns. Keep right on prayin’. Keep right on watchin’. And keep right on trustin’ the God who plum never forgets one, single whispered prayer.
With joy,
Gwen
