A Meditation on 1 Kings 19:11-13

Bobby Ge, Guest writer



Your will, I’m told, is not merely audible

It is loud

It is clear


As grand, as fearsome as a passing gale

that shatters mountaintops and fells colossi,”

they say.


So I look for you in the sky

hoping, that at just the right time

I might meet your eye in the storm

and then you might show me

all I want to see.


I listen for that grand voice

I hope to hear your fearsome word

and for a second


I do?


but the storm passes

and with it

those grand, fearsome,




claps of thunder…


Your will, I’m told

is loud

is clear.


As powerful, as mighty as an earthquake

that razes cities and tears land asunder,”

I hear.


So I touch the ground, ear against soil

hoping, that even for a moment,

I might sense something

emanating up from the deep

showing me what I wish to feel.


I wait for your powerful voice

I long to hear your mighty word

and for a second


I do?


but the ground stills

and the sounds fade –

Powerful, mighty






Your will

is supposed to be clear.


As furious, as overwhelming as a raging inferno

that consumes all and cannot be quenched,”

I say.


So I follow the scent of smoke

hoping for something, anything

to rise from the flame –

a sweet fragrance, perhaps,

to show me what I long for.


I wait for your furious voice

I am desperate for your overwhelming word


I hear




Are you nothing?


If you are nothing

This world is a wasteland

Dark, empty.



[part 1/2]

photography: Mika Martin on Unsplash (1) & Kim Lionel Rivera (2, 3)


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