“Mom, hear this.” His small voice calls from the stairs. He’s asking me to listen.
How profound this request seems to me….so much deeper than asking me to listen to him. He’s asking me to see him. To take in what he has to say. To really be in this moment with him.
It is in his pleas for attention…for hearing…that I see myself…hear myself.
Longing to be heard I raise my voice. I shout. I rant. I talk over. I feel lost in this world of hustle and bustle.
In our world of: “pick that up”
“put that down”
“don’t do that”
“didn’t I tell you to do this”
“quit touching her”
“don’t ride the dog”
“use your words”
“give me a moment”.
This ebb and flow of words. Of constant talking and giving orders to keep our world in order. I feel lost. Like I have no voice. Like beyond the mother-hen-isms of our day-to-day I have nothing that is heard….even when people are listening.
I suppose I feel that way of God too, now and then. When prayers (as the song says) feel like they are bouncing off the sky and there is no sign of acknowledgement or answer. When the Bible is words on a page that seem to be full of sayings I don’t get and rules that I can’t figure out how to apply. When God feels distant and I don’t know if I’m heard. I wonder if He really hears me.
Does He hear my dreams of big things for Him? Does He hear my anxiety over new curriculums, ministry, and losing friends? Does He hear when I’m tired and don’t feel like I can go on? Does He hear when I feel like I can’t find Him and the Bible seems like words written for someone else?
God, please hear this. Hear me.
I understand our son’s want to be heard. The younger brother of a very verbal, very talkative older sister. The son of a father full of life, stories and words to say. The son of a mother who talks, sings or seems to make noise all day long. HEAR THIS! He shouts. HEAR ME!
Oh, how I know those cries.
I had the pleasure recently to lead a ladies’ Bible study on the book of Matthew. Walking through Jesus’ life and words. Searching for Him.
And as we discussed the phrase, “Whoever has ears, let them hear.” I thought of that little boy on our stairs. Of the little girl in me crying out to be heard.
Jesus whispers, Hear me, child.
Enter into this moment with me. Hear me in this moment.
He’s asking me to see him.
Hear me deep in your soul…make my truth yours. Make me part of you.
Oh, how hard the hearing can be.
When the phone rings,
the tv shouts,
the radio sings,
the dryer hums,
the washer swishes,
the vacuum roars,
the children recite,
the news drones on and on.
When everyone needs a minute or has something to tell me.
When there are lessons to be taught and studies to lead.
When there are relatives far away to catch up with and friends you never get to see on the phone tonight.
With noise. And stuff.
Where is the moment to listen? Let alone hear. Apply. Live.
The answer…easy and hard. Make time.
That little voice on the stairs pleading, “hear this,” stops everything for me. I pause whatever I’m doing…eyes and ears on him. Listening. Entering into this moment with him. It isn’t always easy or convenient, but necessary. That’s what love does. It pauses to engage. To listen. To hear and to know.
Oh, how much more should we be listening when our Savior says…whispers…calls…he who has ears, let him hear!!
And there it is my friends. The truth of my life (and maybe yours?). I have to choose, daily — moment by moment — what I will listen to, what will capture my attention, my focus, my heart. I can’t hear Jesus if I am not listening for Jesus. Seeking Him. Studying, praying, praising, listening to a talk/sermon…being still and centering my life, heart and ears on Him.
Do you have a daily quiet time? Some time you carve out for you and God. A time to fill up with His words and listen. A time to hear?
I encourage you, start today…it doesn’t have to be long or involved — just you and Jesus. I’m willing to bet (if I was a betting kinda girl) that as you begin to develop the habit of listening for God, you’ll want more. You’ll pause more, lean in harder and your heart’s cry will become, “Speak Lord. I’m listening. I want to hear you.”