Can You Still Hear My Echo, Father? We Are But a Whisper
- Don Vitalle
- Jun 25
- 3 min read
Updated: Jun 27

Psalm 39:11
When with rebukes You correct man for iniquity, You make his beauty melt away like a moth; surely every man is vapor. Selah
Author's note: The following meditations are drawn from the heart of David's prayers in the Psalms. They have been gently paraphrased to help you reflect more deeply on God's Word and His unchanging character.
I resolved to keep my wisdom silent, to leave my words unspoken. I feared that if they were revealed and subjected to the wickedness of this world, they would be twisted—my counsel misinterpreted, my rebukes returned with scorn. I feared, Lord, that the words of Your servant would be bent to bring You dishonor.
So, I could only stand and watch as my enemies carried on their daily assassination of character and virtue. Even the truths I longed to share with the righteous went unexpressed, held back from the poison of slander. What was there to say? Words failed me.
But my thoughts did not. My mind boiled with molten speeches of “should-have-said’s” and “could-have-said’s” until the pressure overwhelmed my restraint. The thought became the transgression, and my sin blurted out for all to see, committing the thing I had tried so desperately to avoid.
Father God, help me to grasp my mortality. Help me envision a world that no longer contains me, and make me realize how brief this life is. Eternity blinks… that was me! I am gone—an unremarkable vapor. This was never Your first design, Lord. It was the sin of Man that shackled immortality and silenced his echo in eternity.
Can you still hear my echo, Father?
We are but a whisper. A man begins each day assuming he will be granted another. He trusts that tomorrow will arrive, just as it always has. He tosses a ball into the air; never truly certain he will be there for its return. His accounts accrue interest only to be enjoyed by his inheritors; the bounty from his orchard will be served on another’s plate. How can he not see that today is the only day he truly has? The sun may set on a life that will not see it rise again.
But when I turn my gaze from myself and toward You, Father, I see my true reflection in Your eye. My vision clears, and You become my flawless hope.
And since I have Your attention, Lord, wash me of this filth and let me begin anew. Do not let my enemies witness my disgrace. Father, I beg You, protect me from what is to come.
Though I stood mute, my mind still raged with rebellion. My lips were sealed not by my own strength, but by Your admonishing touch upon my tongue. The words were withheld, but the heart was not yet pure.
I can bear earthly pain, Father, for I know Your healing will follow. But I cannot endure Your holy wrath, which feels as if it has no end. My spiritual casket is measured; the flower arrangements are ordered. When You hide Your face from me, Lord, I watch my bowed silhouette fade. My colors vanish, and my form dissolves into the night. All that remains is shadow and dust, specter and sand.
Please, listen to me, Lord. Hear my words and let them be the right ones to reintroduce myself. I am a stranger walking in a desert where I feel forgotten. My sin has given the universe amnesia, and I fear even You have forgotten the generations before me.
Remember me once more, Abba Father. Do not forget the one You cherished just a short while ago. Do not let me slide soul first into oblivion. Pull me back into the safety of Your heart and hold me there forever.
Signed,
Your Son
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