Written by Philemon Ng, Art by Katherine Yao
Many people don’t think that God speaks to people any more. They think He is some kind of being that only exists in the Bible or in fairy tales, but He is not. God speaks. God, Jesus, Spiritâ€”whichever third you want to refer to Him byâ€”really speaks to people in this day in age. And God speaking to people is not some sudden thing where you are walking on the street and you bump into God and he starts talking to you. God has been speaking to you for ages. All of creation is God’s love letter to you. From the ocean to the sky and everything in between; even that door knob that you neglect to notice every morning was wrought with God’s loving hand with you in mind. God uses anything and everything to try and get your attention: from the birds chirping at dawn, to that out of place line on the radio, in the smile of your friend on the street, and always in the whisper to your inmost being. God is speaking to you. Sometimes warning you. Sometimes instructing you. Most of the time simply telling you: my child, I love you.
There was one time I especially remember his whisper. One moment I was yelling at my parents, the next I was running out of the house. It is not easy being a son, even more so a son of Chinese parents; and even more so a Chinese pastor’s son. It was not that life was hard or that my parents’ expectations were too high. I simply ran out because I was tired of it all: the nagging, the trying in school and being outshone still, the devil’s whisper that I am all alone and no one loves me, but most of all the spiritual death that created a “hole in my soul”. I was dead inside to a lot of people; my parents, my friends, myself, but more so to God. My continual sin of anger, pornography, lust, mental cutting, fits of rage, and all the pointless things that leave you emptier inside left me with nothing but the thought of escape. So I ran to a nearby park and decided to commit suicide. But I really did not want to die. I never did. I wanted to not feel empty inside; I wanted to not feel alone. So with one last desperate plea, I prayed a prayer which slowly filled that hole in my soul. I cried out to Jesus, and He whispered. The whisper was but a fleeting feeling, but can be described as, “Don’t die. I love you, as you are. If you are willing to lose your life, give your life to me.”
And in that moment I knew that wherever I go, I will see, I will hear, and I will feel the hand of the Creator reaching out to me. He knows everything about me, the good and the bad. I do not have to tell him, but He wants me to know about him. He is not a rude or brash God. He waits patiently at the corner of my eye for me to notice him. God works through each and every one of His creations: He hides in the expression of the beggar, the voice of children, the shaking of the broken hearted, in the humblest of places He is found. Waiting for us to hear his whisper. So the next time you think God has abandoned you, think again. Just listen for that still small voice and know the voice of the whisperer.