I hear God calling.
It is always different.
It’s just a whisper sometimes. Or a word placed on my heart with surgical precision. A persistent feeling in a dream. A melody on repeat in my brain. A compass dropped in my lap.
He whispers of a grace and abundance I don’t deserve.
But God never stutters.
And He is often unconventional.
Answering my prayers in ways I didn’t expect. In ways my mind can’t comprehend. Strands floating through time that are imperceptible to me. Appointments cemented.
Sometimes He puts a road block directly in front of what I want. A boldly painted “No Trespass” sign. A trip wire. A land mine. A reverberating no.
Every once in a while He shouts, a foundation-cracking earthquake that snatches my feet out from under me, leaving me shattered in my own rubble.
It is then that He speaks to me soul, a reminder that it is only He that can blow the dust off and bring these dry bones to life.
I hear God calling my name, speaking of intricate plans and anointings that were designed long before I took my first breath.
He is beckoning me. His voice is trilling birdsong. Tsunami waves plummeting me to the depths. Butterfly wings kissing my cheek. Raindrops sliding down apricot rose petals.
His voice crashes over my banks; His spirit spills and careens out of my cells at breakneck pace.
These miracles I can’t deny.
I am listening. I can’t ignore it.