I’ve got six little people in my life. Soon to be eight. Under the age of five. The littlest one is learning how to say words like “momma” and “daddy” while the biggest one is talking in complete paragraphs about dinosaurs and quantum physics. It’s the kids in the middle group that are in various stages of parlance. Because their thoughts are developing so quickly, it’s frustrating for them when their ability to communicate hasn’t quite caught up.

Hence, the whining.

“Use your words,” their mommas say.

I’m a contemplative type. I’m happy as a clam to sit in my office, in the quiet early morning hours. I bask in the silence and solitude. Most of my thoughts and prayers are internal, rarely uttered aloud. I’m not after some sort of mystical experience, but instead have learned to enjoy sitting in the presence of God. As Jan Johnson says, “I just look at God and God looks at me.”

Maybe that approach is good some of the time, but there is a need for balance. If PB and I just sat and looked at each other all the time, it might get kind of boring. Or it could turn into a giggle-fest. When I read Hosea 14 last week, verse 2 pressed hard on me.

“Take words with you and return to the Lord.”

I shouldn’t underestimate the value of putting my thoughts and prayers into actual words. God spoke creation into being with words, Jesus was called “the Word made flesh”, the Spirit carried along the writers of the Word of God. He’s a conversational God, waiting for my response.

It’s good to come to Him in quietness and trust,

but I am also invited to “use my words.”