We wish you would say something.
In the chaos and storming of social media, we wish that you would say “Stop”. Like you did standing in a boat in a lake in Galilee two millennia ago.
And in the sudden calmness, we would say, “God.”
And we might weep.
We forget that we can do that ourselves. We live in a story of our own allowance. We are, some of us, in a storm of our own creation. And we can whisper, “stop” and set aside our phone.
But we know that we are beset by storms in our own souls, too. And we forget that one way to talk with you is to start with the torrent of our requests, in prayer and petition.
Not just for a job or a car or a healing. But our deepest fears and our most earnest hopes and our most baffling uncertainties and our middle-of-the-night darkness. We can, Paul says, tell you all of that.
And with no promise of fixing it the way we want, you will place your peace on guard duty for our hearts. You will place your peace as a network security for our minds.
God, I do not know how that works. I do not think it’s a contract depending on how much we tell you. I think it’s an invitation to be with you.
Through Christ our Lord.
Reflecting Philippians 4