Then the LORD said, “Go outside and stand on the mountain before the LORD; the LORD will be passing by.” A strong and heavy wind was rending the mountains and crushing rocks before the LORD – but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake – but the LORD was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake there was fire – but the LORD was not in the fire. After the fire there was a tiny whispering sound. When he heard this, Elijah hid his face in his cloak and went and stood at the entrance of the cave. A voice said to him, “Elijah, why are you here?”

The above verse came to me the other night when I woke up just after 1 a.m. and I saw a light under my bedroom door, I thought “why is he still up?” I got up, went downstairs and I realized that Steve had already gone to bed, but this little lamp was left on…which literally hasn’t been on for more than two years. (I used it when Steve was confined to the living room after his accident, and I had to wake him up to give him medication and take care of the commode) When he got up the next morning I asked him about the lamp, and he said he didn’t touch it, it was completely dark when he went up to bed. Of course I wasn’t surprised in the least, given, well, everything lately…but anyway, I digress.

After working zealously for God, Elijah, in fear of his life and with the help of an angel, escaped into the desert and ended up in a cave. He felt alone and defeated especially after all he had accomplished for God, and that was the context of the above quote. Sometimes I think we only give credence to the large and flashy moments that grab our attention as proof there is something powerful and sacred going on, and that God works more powerfully in the miraculous and in the form of powerful humans. While those things certainly can be and are true, I was reminded in the dark, where I sat for a few moments after turning off that stupid lamp, and in quiet silence remembered the verse above. God was not in the wind, the earthquake and the fire, but in a gentle whisper requiring silence in order to hear God.

So, I sat in the dark and quiet and listened. As I become more untethered to form and convention of the world on this journey and the more solitary this road has become the loneliness I feel is becoming more and more palpable. Then my heavenly voice spoke to me and said, “Mary Frances, just be content with being a whisper and all will be well.” And like I do often these days, I cried. I spent so much of my life trying to be the wind, an earthquake or a scorching fire for God because I suppose it was what I thought I was supposed to be doing for God, when actually, all those “things” led me here, to be in a place where I am comfortable, for once, not being a movement or a force to be reckoned with (although don’t get me wrong, I am still and will always be a badass butterfly), I am content with being a whisper, sending out love and hope, in the form of words, prayers, art and simple actions.

A final caveat…during COVID, when my eldest got a job outside of Chicago, they sent me a link to a song from the 1975’s “You know the sound of my heart” They meant it as a loving gesture, thankful that someone on the planet knew their heart and they found great strength in that. I believe the same goes for all of you out there, I hope you know the sound of my heart, and that, in the rhythm of its small whisper brings you joy.