My listening skills need practice

Did you ever think teens are a lot like toddlers? My 13-year-old grandson was at my home recently. I asked him to get dressed, put all his things in his bag and roll up his sleeping bag. He did the first one. Then his focus shifted, and the other two were not finished. Toddlers are like that. Their focus is easily diverted. My grandson is exceptionally bright (bragging rights here), but multi-tasking is not his forte. He’s too easily distracted. Fortunately, for both young teens and toddlers, they usually outgrow that lack of focus. 

While I can usually keep all the balls in the air as I juggle life’s circumstances, there are times when my focus gets diverted, too. I really want to focus on God’s grace, my calling and the path he puts before me. I go to church and pray, “Hear my prayer, oh Lord,” or “Lord have mercy.” I ask for guidance and strength, healing and understanding. But do I listen to how God is speaking to me, or is my focus soon diverted to other things?

Perhaps I am a bit like a toddler or a young teen with lots of distractions as well as lots of growing room. It takes practice to listen. Especially since God does not usually speak directly to me as another human being would. I have to focus to hear God. I hear him when I am deliberate. I can feel his presence when I take a walk or when I am near the ocean. It’s his world and he speaks through nature.

I also hear him when I read his Word, the Bible. Whatever you believe about the truth of the Bible, there is no denying it is great literature and there are lessons to be learned from reading it. God’s voice can be heard in what I believe is inspired writing.

Another way I hear God is in the voices of others who know him. Preachers, writers, speakers, musicians and good friends can be the voice of God to me. It’s true, scripture says we need to compare what someone teaches with the Bible, but often the people God placed in my life speak his truth to me.

And in silence, I hear God speaking to me. But that means I have to be quiet. Not lose my focus on God, but listen to him. Thoughts shoot through my head – I’m wired that way and so are you – but I gently put them aside and revert to silence. It is in silence that I hear him most often.

I am a noticer. Almost anything can distract me. But silence is a spiritual discipline I actually practice. Like playing an instrument well needs practice, so does listening for God’s voice. So I practice silence. I’m not always good at it, just as if I were learning a new piece of music. But practice leads to improvement. And I want to hear God speaking to me.

Be still before the Lord, all mankind ... 

-- Zechariah 2:13

The long drive home

I grew up studying a map for directions. Now I trust my phone. But sometimes my GPS does odd things.

Coming home to Iowa from Racine, Wisconsin, I turned on GPS directions, trusting it to show the same route I took going. It started predictably, cruising Interstates, making great time.  Then the demanding voice told me to exit. I obeyed. She, I call her Lucy, knows the way to anywhere.

At the top of the ramp, Lucy told me to re-enter the Interstate. What? That’s backtracking. Why would I do that? But I complied. I figure Lucy knows, and getting out my road atlas now is not an option.

Lucy guides me to a two-lane road. Not good. I just want to be home. This is not the fast route. But I don’t have much choice unless I take time to pull over and plot a route back to the Interstate. Does Lucy know something I don’t, like maybe there is a crash on the Interstate and traffic is standing still?

I follow her commands. Soon she has me driving a curvy road beside a mostly frozen river. Stark, leafless trees line the other side. The trees, white snow and icy river are a beautiful study in black-and-white. The sky is cloudy, so there is virtually no color. The beauty is astounding. There’s no shoulder, so I cannot stop for this “Kodak moment,” but sometimes the best photos are actually in my head. I’m not sure where Lucy is taking me, but she knows a scenic route.

As I turn onto a state highway, I drive through picturesque small towns. Older houses sit beside the highway. Oh, the stories they could tell. They’ve been there a long time and seen many passersby.

Finally Lucy directs me to an Interstate. I am happy to see the four-lane highway, but despite the time lost by my circuitous drive, I would not trade that experience – the stark beauty and the more leisurely pace – for the faster, but monotonous Interstate.

I know Lucy has no brain. She is a robot. So why did she change my route? I think it was a gift from God. He knew I needed that beautiful drive, even though I felt lost. I was going the right direction, but it was not the route I planned.

That’s the way life is. We don’t always get the road we want. But along the way there are fulfilling experiences. Getting there fast is not always best. Enjoying the journey is more important than speed.