God Hears My Song

(When the Soul Remembers God)

There are moments in life when the noise finally settles…

and the questions we’ve kept buried begin to rise.

Maybe it happens late at night when sleep won’t come.

Maybe during a long commute when the mind has too much room.

Maybe in a moment when everything looks fine on the outside —

but inside, something feels hollow.

And the heart whispers:

“Why am I here?

Does my life really matter?

Is this all there is?”

We rarely speak those words aloud.

We stay busy. We joke. We keep moving.

Because we’re afraid of what stillness might reveal.

Not long ago, someone I love more than I can say — someone who has done everything right by the world’s standards — called me in a moment like that. He’s forty-one. A respected leader in his field. People depend on him because he’s steady and smart and capable.

But that day, something inside of him — something deep — broke through. And through tears he said:

“I’m trying to find purpose and meaning in all of this.”

Not drama.

Not weakness.

Just honesty.

The kind of honesty most of us are afraid to admit.

I sat with his words long after the call ended.

Because I realized:

this is not his struggle alone.

Every human heart knows that ache.

That longing for life to be more than survival,

more than waking up and doing it all again tomorrow.

Solomon — a man who had everything — said it too.

He explored every pleasure, every accomplishment, every path success offered…

and when he held it all in his hands, he found his hands were still empty.

So he wrote:

> “Everything is vanity and futile — a vapor.”

(Ecclesiastes 1:2, AMP)

Not pointless.

Just not enough.

But in that same book, Solomon revealed a beautiful and hopeful truth:

> “He (God) has planted eternity in the human heart [a sense of purpose, a divine desire which nothing under the sun can satisfy].”

(Ecclesiastes 3:11, AMP)

That longing for more —

is God’s fingerprint on your soul.

The emptiness we try so hard to cover up…

is actually evidence that we were made for Someone eternal.

That restlessness you carry?

That is not your flaw —

it’s your design.

Yet… instead of listening to that ache…

We distract ourselves.

We fill our calendars.

We fill our hands.

We fill our minds.

We make sure the TV is always on,

the music is always playing,

the schedule is packed tight…

Because silence can feel like a mirror.

And mirrors can be too honest.

But what if the ache is not a threat?

What if the ache is an invitation?

What if the longing that keeps returning is God saying:

“There is more.

Don’t settle.

Come closer.”

Jesus once looked out at a crowd of weary people —

people who were overwhelmed, disappointed, and tired of pretending —

and He didn’t give them a ten-step plan.

He simply said:

> “Come to Me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

(Matthew 11:28, AMP)

Not “come to church” — though church can help.

Not “come to religion” — though faith is vital.

But Come. To. Me.

Relationship — not performance.

Presence — not pressure.

A Savior — not a system.

There are stories in Scripture where Jesus makes this so real.

A man named Zacchaeus — hiding up in a tree because he felt unworthy and unwelcome — hears Jesus call his name. Not from a distance. Not with judgment.

“Zacchaeus… hurry and come down.

I must stay at your house today.”

(Luke 19:5, AMP)

Jesus doesn’t wait for us to reach Him.

He comes to where we are.

A Samaritan woman — drawing water alone in the heat of shame and disappointment — finds Jesus sitting right where she would pass.

He looks into her heart and speaks to the thirst beneath her thirst.

He offers water that fills the soul… not just the bucket.

Meaning doesn’t arrive when life finally improves.

Meaning begins the moment we admit:

“I’m thirsty…

and I need more than what I’ve tried.”

I like to think of it this way:

Years ago, I had a radio that only played static.

No matter how I turned the dials — nothing but noise.

I almost threw it away.

One day, I bumped the knob just slightly…

and suddenly music filled the room.

The radio wasn’t broken.

The signal was always there.

It just needed tuning.

God is not silent.

God is not far away.

God is broadcasting love into your life every day.

Sometimes all it takes is

one prayer…

one quiet moment…

one tiny shift of the heart…

…for His presence to come alive to you.

Your ache — your longing —