LISTEN … what do you hear? The train whistle in the distance? The high school bell across the highway? The multitude of different birds bellowing out their morning songs?
You really have to stop and intentionally listen to hear the many uniquely distinct sounds of the morning. This is the game I play with my three-year-old grandson when we first arrive at our house on days I babysit him.
Sometimes we hear a siren in the distance and say a prayer. Other times we hear a horse neigh or a rooster crow from a neighboring farm.
When I am busy getting ready for work and rushing off, I hear nothing. As I first played this game with my grandson, it amazed me how many different sounds we actually heard. It was even more exciting when my grandson started identifying sounds at his young age. “I hear a horse-y.” Clapping and laughing, we listened for more.
As we played this game, I felt the Lord impressing my heart and saying the same thing to me. “Listen … what do you hear? I am speaking to you.”
My first thought was, When were you speaking to me Lord? I didn’t hear you say anything.
“Did you sense the nudging in your heart to send a note of encouragement to the friend whose name I brought to your mind? Perhaps your spirit quickened when the thought came to call another friend to see how they were doing.”
Later, I thought of how, while reading the Scriptures, a phrase or thought would enter my mind unexpectedly. Those were all times I realized God was speaking to me.
The Lord showed me He is just as delighted with me as I am with my grandson when I listen to Him … when I recognize He is speaking to me … when I act upon what He whispers into my heart. It doesn’t have to be big things.
I am reminded of when God instructed Elijah to go out and stand before Him on the mountain. He first sent a great and strong wind that tore into the mountains. This was followed by an earthquake and then a fire, but the Lord was not in the strong wind, the earthquake, or the fire. He was in the still small voice.
Listen … what do you hear?
(Photo courtesy of morguefile and jppi.)
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