Most reasonable people believe in God, I think.
Most sensible people even talk to God,
(if not frequently, at least on occasion.)
When the daze and dizziness of life’s journey becomes too great,
When the bewilderment about what’s going on becomes so egregious that men don’t know which way to turn …
On those days, I think, wise human beings decide to speak to God.
No appointment.
No introduction.
No previous experience necessary.
There are days when ordinary and mere mortal humans, people who haven’t talked to God in eons (or perhaps, ever,)
Will walk into the presence of the Almighty, whether they know Him personally or not.
As if they were driving up to a fast food window to order something to eat,
As if they were punching buttons at their bank’s ATM for ready cash,
They walk into the sacred presence of the only God there is, and they actually talk to God.
I wonder what He thinks about that?
I wonder what God thinks of me, at times like that? I’ve known Him personally for most of my life.
But I still have times when, in my running back and forth across life’s path,
I dash into His courts with my list of ‘stuff,’
My list of life’s dirty laundry I need to have starched, pressed, and folded by Friday.
I have noticed that, like so many people in this world, I guess, I spend an awful lot of my time ‘wanting’ from God.
I catch myself in that place of ‘wanting,’
or ‘asking,’
or ‘telling’ God things.
Telling God what He already knows.
Asking Him questions He’s already heard;
Questions He’s already answered, a million-zillion times before.
I wonder if God ever catches Himself wanting to say, “Shh?”
I wonder if there’s ever been a time when He looked at my life,
And would really love the opportunity
To get a word in edgewise, or otherwise?
It seems to me that so much of our world is feeling a need, today.
A need for conversation.
A need for clarification.
In a word, what this world is in desperate need of is a healing word from Him, the only God there is.
So, today, instead of wandering into that place of ‘wanting,’
or ‘asking,’
or ‘telling’ God things.
Telling God what He already knows.
I have fiercely determined to find myself a “listening place,”
Some “stationary” promontory point where I can remain silent;
Some outpost, some listening post where words won’t even seem necessary.
A place where listening to that still, small voice of His will be all that is necessary.
Can’t help but wonder what that’s gonna be like:
No asking God stuff.
No telling God stuff.
No need for God to say, “Shh.”
The suspense is killing me, but … today, I will wait, at my listening post.
I will wait, expecting to hear … from Him.
“Blessed is the man who listens to me, Watching daily at my gates, Waiting at my doorposts.”
(Prov. 8:34)
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