Hearing the Voice of God
Gospel Reflection for October 28, 2024
Daily Gospel Reading
Jesus went up to the mountain to pray,
and he spent the night in prayer to God.
When day came, he called his disciples to himself,
and from them he chose Twelve, whom he also named Apostles:
Simon, whom he named Peter, and his brother Andrew,
James, John, Philip, Bartholomew, Matthew,
Thomas, James the son of Alphaeus,
Simon who was called a Zealot,
and Judas the son of James,
and Judas Iscariot, who became a traitor.
When you’re struggling with a decision—maybe one of those weighty, anxiety-filled ones—where do you turn? Who do you trust to help figure it out? For a lot of us, it’s a friend, a spouse, or maybe even a priest.
In those moments, we may sense, deep down, that God is there—offering guidance, ready to listen. Yet we still turn to others, seeking reassurance from wise, albeit imperfect, people, or simply someone to say, “It’ll be alright.”
And while there’s nothing wrong with wanting that comfort, it’s strange to me how often our impulse is to seek other people first, before we go to God—as if He is merely the last ditch effort or final resort when we reach true desperation.
Why? Why do we have a tendency to seek out fellow human beings, our brothers and sisters, before we go to the all-knowing, all powerful Creator of the entire universe? Maybe it’s not guidance we’re looking for but rather a verbal validation—a voice that will echo back what we hope is true or what we want to hear. But how often does this type of advice actually satisfy us?
What I believe we crave is something tangible, something we can hold onto. We want someone to say, “Yes, go this way,” “No, go that way,” or “You’re absolutely right.” We want clarity, spelled out in black and white, something to ease our minds without too much searching.
But here’s the catch: God doesn’t usually hand us a detailed map. Those who have waited in silence, wondering why the heavens feel quiet, know what I mean. Sometimes, that silence feels like a wall, and it’s easy to question if we’re even being heard.
I’ve come to realize that God really does give us the guidance we’re looking for—just not always in the way or the timing we desire. I had to figure this out in a very personal way, going through something recently that left me anxious and uncertain.
Every night, I’d pray, just asking God for a way forward, for a way to get my will in line with His. It became a kind of routine—each night, laying out my worries and praying the rosary. I was looking for anything that might feel like an answer, hoping that if I just prayed persistent enough, I’ll avoid what potentially loomed on the horizon.
Then, one night, something finally happened. Out of nowhere, I felt like I could almost hear God saying two simple words: “Don’t worry.” It felt close, like He was right there, just telling me to trust Him.
Nothing about my situation had changed yet, but that message was enough to give me some semblence of peace. And as things continued to unfold, I started to see that God had been right: what concerned me most, though it seemed likely to happen, didn’t actually come to pass.
Since then, my perspective on prayer has totally shifted. I used to turn to friends or family right away when things got hard, but now, I try to start with God. And it’s not that I get clear answers on day one or even day three—it took me over a week of steady, daily prayer to really hear Him.
It reminds me of Elijah, praying persistently for rain, sending his servant to the sea seven times before a cloud finally emerged (1 Kings 18). Sometimes, God doesn’t speak or act right away, but He’s always there, and His guidance is exactly what we need, especially when life feels overwhelming.
Prayer—real, persistent prayer—has a way of shifting our focus, reminding us that God is near, even when we can’t hear His voice right away. This isn’t about getting answers on our terms, but about learning to trust. Sometimes, God’s response is just a sense of peace, a quiet nudge to keep going or simply, “Don’t worry,” even when the details are unclear. Those moments give us an anchor, a steadiness that nothing else can provide.
In today’s Gospel, we see Jesus Himself turning to the Father for guidance. Before choosing the Twelve, He spent the night in prayer. And this wasn’t a one-time thing—Jesus prayed before pivotal moments, especially in times of suffering, like in Gethsemane.
If Jesus, the Son of God, needed to take His prayers to the Father before making essential decisions or when He was in suffering, how much more do we?
Persistent prayer doesn’t just lead us to answers; it aligns us with God’s wisdom. It opens us to receive what only He can give: a peace from the Creator Himself, who sees beyond our uncertainties and simply says, “Trust Me.”
I’m experiencing this dynamic as we speak…
A huge AMEN!!!!