The Art of Listening

I can hear it clearly from my back porch in the dimness of the early morning sunrise. The same sound comes in loud and clear in the remoteness of a forest when I’m perched high in a pine tree waiting for a deer to pass my way. And there’s no static in the reception at all when I’m on the deck of my boat in the middle of the lake casting for old Bertha Big Mouth Bass. Sometimes the sound is audible – something the bones in my ear pick up the vibrations of and relay to my brain its source and substance. Other times, the sound of silence speaks to that part of me that is deeper than the physical bag of flesh and bone – my soul. To hear these various sounds is one thing…to listen to them is another altogether.

Let’s face it – we’re living in a season of uncertainty right now. There’s uncertainty surrounding the ongoing pandemic which isn’t helped any by the media’s constant stoking of the fires of fear, but I digress… There’s uncertainty in the arena of government and politics as a new administration pulls out old tricks only disguised with a new name which will seem to help some while ostracizing others…And then there’s all of the normal ins and outs of daily life that are uncertain in and of themselves: Will my kid make the right choices? Is there going to be enough money to pay the bills this month? Will my friends be able to overcome the difficulty they are having in their family? Will this? Will that? And on and on and on… Uncertainty…

I don’t know about you, but when these days, or sometimes seasons, of uncertainty come my way, I need desperately to disconnect from the never-ending sounds and noises of life and re-learn the Art of Listening. Not listening to music or to someone’s advice or to any other sound, but listening for what the Bible refereed to as that “still, small voice” (1 Kings 19:11-13) that only comes as the God of the Universe has an audience with the ears of our hearts. This “still, small voice” may come on a gentle breeze, through the rolling of distant thunder, or through the soft peeps and chirps of morning’s early risers that remind me that if God can take care of the birds, certainly He can take care of me! (Matthew 10:29-31)

I’m convinced that the Lord is always speaking to us if we’ll just stop and listen. In a rare event, He will shout to us. Most of the time, however, He chooses to use a gentle whisper to speak into our strife-stricken situations. So the questions is not whether or not God speaks – indeed He has and still does. (Hebrews 1:1-2) The question we must answer is whether or not we will position ourselves away from the madness of the rat race of life and into the stillness of His presence so He can present His still, small voice to the eardrum of our wandering souls. I encourage you today to find the place that quietens your soul and listen for His gentle whisper…and then listen to Him when you have heard Him.

Now, somewhere down life’s dusty path – away from busy highways and towering skyscrapers – somewhere where life slows down and gets quiet – along a winding creek or around a twist in a wooded trail, Listening for the still, small voice – I’ll see you…in the Great Outdoors!