Step 6 of 14Son, I never left you
Still Small Voice
I climbed up to the mountain with a question I couldn't shakeMy family needed answers, I didn't know which road to takeSo I stood up on the summit and I shouted to the skyBegged the Lord to tell me which way, with the wind stingin' my eyes
Then a great wind tore the mountain, split the rocks down to the stoneThen the ground began to tremble, then the fire lit the nightWind and quake and fire — and He wasn't in a one
Then came a still small voiceQuiet as a prayerIt didn't shake the mountainBut it found me standin' thereAnd it pierced right through the centerOf every doubt and every fearSaid, "Son, I never left youYou just couldn't hear"
Now I come home to the thunder of a world that never sleepsScreens that never quiet down and noise that runs so deepEvery voice is shoutin' louder, tellin' me just what to doAnd I've learned the loudest voice is rarely the one that's true
So I shut the door and bend my knee the way the Master saidTurn off every shoutin' voice and open up the Book insteadAnd I wait there in the stillness till I hear Him in my head
Then came a still small voiceQuiet as a prayerIt didn't shake the mountainBut it found me standin' thereAnd it pierced right through the centerOf every doubt and every fearSaid, "Son, I never left youYou just couldn't hear"
He won't shout above the thunder, He won't fight the world for roomHe just waits for you to quiet down, like dawn waits out the gloomHe will not share a house with sin, so I confess and clear the way'Cause a man gone past all feelin' won't hear a word He'd sayAnd when there ain't no answer yet, He'll sit there in the dark with youThat's why they call Him Comforter — that's part of what He'll doHe speaks it to your mind, and He speaks it to your heartAnd it comes with a peace the world can't give or pull apart
Then came a still small voiceQuiet as a prayerIt didn't shake the mountainBut it found me standin' thereAnd it told me which way home wasClear as mornin' lightAnd I walked down off that mountainKnowin' which road was right
The world can keep its thunderLet it roll and let it roarI'll be listenin' for the whisperLike I never have beforeSo be still, and know He is GodHe ain't never left at allShut the door and quiet downAnd you'll hear Him when He calls
The story
Elijah was worn out. He had just stood against hundreds of false prophets, and now the queen wanted him dead. He ran into the wilderness, hid in a cave on the mountain, and told the Lord he was the only faithful one left. So the Lord told him to go stand on the mount. A great wind came and tore the mountain and broke the rocks in pieces, "but the Lord was not in the wind." Then an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. Then a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. "And after the fire a still small voice."
The man in this song climbs a mountain with a question he can't shake. His family needs answers, and he doesn't know which road to take. So he stands on the summit and shouts at the sky, expecting thunder. And what comes is a whisper. The Book of Mormon describes that voice better than anyone: "not a voice of thunder," not loud, but "a still voice of perfect mildness," and yet it "did pierce even to the very soul." That's how the Holy Ghost works. The Lord told Oliver Cowdery, "I will tell you in your mind and in your heart, by the Holy Ghost."
Here's the part I don't think we talk about enough. The song names two things that keep us from hearing. The first is noise. A world that never sleeps, screens that never quiet down, every voice shouting louder than the last. The loudest voice is rarely the one that's true. But the second one is harder. Nephi told his brothers that the Lord had spoken to them in a still small voice, "but ye were past feeling, that ye could not feel his words." And Helaman teaches that the Spirit of the Lord "doth not dwell in unholy temples." Sometimes the silence isn't the volume. It's us.
That's not a word of condemnation. It's a door. Because the answer is repentance, and repentance clears the way. In the restored Church, after baptism, we receive the gift of the Holy Ghost by the laying on of hands. That gift is a promise of His companionship as long as we keep our covenants. When it feels like He's left, He hasn't. The song says it in His voice: "Son, I never left you / You just couldn't hear." We step away. He waits.
And sometimes there's no answer yet, and that doesn't mean anything is wrong. Jesus called the Holy Ghost the Comforter. He promised it would teach us all things and bring His words back to our remembrance, and He promised a peace the world can't give. Before the Spirit tells you which road to take, He'll often just sit there in the dark with you. Comfort first. Direction comes after.
President Russell M. Nelson pleaded with us to hear Him, and to make the effort it takes. That's the invitation of this song. Shut the door. Turn off the shouting. Open the Book. Be still, and know that He is God. The voice that found Elijah on the mountain is still speaking, and it is speaking to you.
Sources
Think about it
When heaven has felt silent to you, was it the noise around you, something you needed to clear out of your own house, or a season when He was simply sitting with you in the dark? What would it take to find out?
Tonight
Put your phone in another room and shut the door. Pray, then stay on your knees a little longer than feels comfortable, and write down any thought or feeling that comes, even a small one.