I listen to my friend as she tells me about the news report that I cannot understand on my own. I live in Cairo and the news comes tumbling out of the radio in Arabic. We stand in the kitchen and my friend chooses words and phrases in Arabic that are easier for me to understand than those streaming from the reporter. As my friend speaks, I can’t do my usual multi-tasking, like wiping a counter while following the conversation. I must listen closely, attentive to every word. If I mistake a pronoun, I might end up lost about who we are discussing; if I misunderstand the verb, I might make criminals out of innocent people in my mind. I could find this news report in English but I’m trying to learn Arabic. I want the vocabulary of this new language to stick. I want the sounds and phrases to become familiar to me. I want to understand this language. I lean in.
I’ve been thinking about how this picture of leaning in to listen closely relates to listening to God. It could be easy for me to focus on the tasks of the day and just trust in the words and phrases that I have already heard before from God. Just as I could stick with a superficial understanding of the local language to get by on the day-to-day, I could stick with a superficial recognition of God’s voice and His words.
Except, that’s not what I want. I want His voice to be so familiar to me that I listen immediately (John 10:3-4, 14). I want His words to sit deeply within me so that my mind discerns what is true and good and right (Romans 12:2). I want to know when I am going astray or when He wants me to follow another path (Isaiah 30:21).
I need to let His word be before my eyes and in my ears every day. I need to believe that I cannot do anything apart from Him and pull myself closer to the life-giving vine (John 15:5). This is the invitation He has given us – to lean in and know Him.
When do you most clearly hear God’s voice?
I often hear God’s voice when I am teaching and correcting my youngest child. As I instruct her about grumbling and not considering the gifts she has, I hear the Spirit say, “And you, too, child.” It’s always an invitation, not a condemnation. I hear a pointing out of the path I’m on and an invitation to the path He offers me.