Gently He whispers,
But His words we do not hear.
We’re worried about our own cares,
And don’t realize who’s speaking in our ear.

We’re waiting for a sign,
But each one we ignore,
As we read line by line,
And miss the blessings He had in store.

We’re looking for His word,
In the wind, quake or flame.
But that’s not always where He’s heard,
For His voice isn’t always the same.

It’s in His quiet whispers,
Unnoticed as they go,
He shows how much he cares,
And teaches us to grow.

By Amy Bell
Written before June 3rd 1995