I’ll Call You

Steve Skiver   -  

When I set out to write these Family Table Devotions, I have an end point on which I focus. The success or failure to make clear that point, is how we communicate. Today’s devotion does not have a clearly defined end point. I know what the ending should be – theologically speaking – however, I cannot honestly aim at that mark. So as I begin, the ending is “fuzzy” and out of focus: just so you will understand from the start.



“My righteous God, answer me when I call.” [Psalm 4:1 EHV]


Humankind has made communicating and avoiding communications an art form. Let’s see how many historic forms of communication we can name. In no particular order, (just as they come to my mind): naturally, the spoken word; town crier; ambassadors sent by a king; telephone; here’s an odd one: smoke signals; the written word: letters, newspapers; Morse code; how about carrier pigeons?; and as technology advances: email; text; IM’s; someone, somewhere must be working on beaming a signal directly into the brain… Those are just broad examples, and there are variations and combinations of each type. With every type of communication sent, there is a receiver who will respond (or not) on their own terms, often to the chagrin of the sender.



Often have I wanted to send God a text and at least see a read receipt to make sure he saw it; because, you know God would be slow to answer texts and emails (judging by how long it takes to answer my prayers…) The Psalms are ripe with calls to God waiting for God to respond. [Note to self: start reading the Psalms.]  We are approaching the “fuzzy” ending. The theological ending is God answers prayer. Period. However, being a new creation in Christ (2 Corinthians 5:17) trying to live my vocation, I will say with David: Lord, I call to you. Hurry to me. Turn your ear toward my voice when I call to you. (Psalm 141:1 EHV) The full Psalm 141 is a nice read. I wonder if God sent David a pigeon in response…



Not really looking for a pigeon, but…





Trust the Promises,


Steve Skiver