Yet just as from the heavens
the rain and snow come down
And do not return there
till they have watered the earth,
making it fertile and fruitful,
Giving seed to the one who sows
and bread to the one who eats,
So shall my word be
that goes forth from my mouth;
It shall not return to me empty,
but shall do what pleases me,
achieving the end for which I sent it. Isaiah 55:10-11
O God, may I always and everywhere listen to your Word, reverence it, cherish it, nurture it—and never hinder from doing its work of striving to make me more genuine and holy.
Words these days are common as dirt. Billions of human words crowd the airwaves each day, ready to fly into my ears at the flick of a switch. Billions more are printed each day, all of them trying to sell, to entertain, to inform—and at times to confuse or even to deceive. I could easily drown in this daily flood, sucked into this bottomless whirlpool of words.
You Word, O God, is not like a screaming verbal vortex. Your Word is like the soft rain and melting snow that quietly penetrates and slowly nourishes. Your Word comes, not in noisy fanfare, irritating shouts and information overload, but rather in silence and in restful peace.
May your Word, O God, be ever more fruitful in me.
James E. Adams
Originally published March 10, 1992
