voice through the noise

I was reading a friend’s thoughts tonight on how God speaks to her in the stillness. Of how she took a walk along the beach, skipping stones into the water and feeling the warmth of the sand on her feet. Of how the mist hovered gently over the trees and of how the rain pitter pattered in the water on the lake all around her. And I wondered if God still spoke to me, in the noise of the city, in the cry of the siren, in the shouts of the people on the street, in the staggering of the drunk, in the solicitation of the prostitute, in the threat of the mugger, and through my locked doors. I'm sure He does, but sometimes it's hard to hear.