When most people think of God speaking, they think of a still, small voice. It’s a beautiful thought, but it’s just one of many ways God’s voice shows up. Lately I’ve been fascinated by the stunning descriptions of what God’s voice is and does in Psalm 29. Some of these may resonate with you more than others, but they all bust the still, small stereotype wide open.

I’ll cover one or two each week for the next few weeks, but I want to start by looking at the word “voice”. The Biblical definition includes everything from the faintest tinkling bell to the roar of thunder.

is the first character. It represented the sun on the horizon, and symbolized a gathering of light, or gathering in general. The second is the וwhich represented a tent stake or spear, and the last is the ל which represents a shepherd’s staff.

I love how this word itself illustrates what God’s voice is and does. His voice gathers. It shepherds. And it pierces.

I witnessed this gathering, shepherding aspect of His voice when we lived in Italy, with sheep grazing across the road from our farm. Every morning we heard the shepherds leading them out to pasture, and every evening we heard them bringing the sheep back in for the night.

Then last year, my husband cared for the sheep on the farm where we lived in Minnesota. At first, they paid no attention to him. Gradually the flock became more attuned to him, until they were tracking all his movements and coming when he called them. They knew his voice.

I’ve felt God’s voice gathering me close, shepherding, stabilizing. And I’ve felt its piercing quality too. When I think of all the times His voice has pierced through my sin or my fear (which are really the same fascade) it felt more therapeutic than punative.

Here’s the first description of God’s voice in Psalm 29:

“The voice of the LORD is over the waters…” “Waters” is composed of מ(the character for water, representing uncertainty) the י (a hand) and another מ, more water or uncertainty. So “waters” is a picture of a hand surrounded by uncertainty. I like to think of it as a God’s-hand sandwich, with uncertainty bread.

I feel like this perfectly describes my life right now. I’ve been treading murky water for over a year and a half. I’m not drowning, and I don’t feel overwhelmed anymore. But there’s also no sight of land yet, no foothold. Every physical variable in our life feels uncertain.

His voice is the hand that plunges into the waters to reach for me. It slices through the unknown and speaks with piercing clarity. His voice (on my best days) gives me buoyant hope. And on my worst days, when I sob over everything our kids have been through, when I question where we went wrong, His voice pierces my doubt.

How have you experienced God’s hand in the midst of uncertainty? What else does this word picture reveal to you about His voice?