“Mommy,” she says to me from the back seat, “I can’t hear Him.”
“Who?” I ask her.
“God.” she says with an exasperated sigh. “I can’t hear him say any words out loud.”
“You have to listen carefully in your heart.” I tell her. Let’s try it right now. “Ask God what He sees when He looks at you.”
She pauses.
“I think He’s saying I’m beautiful.” She says with a smile.
“This is how you hear Him.” I meet her eyes in the rearview mirror. “You listen for the still, small voice that speaks in your heart.”
I know that this thing that she heard, this knowing that she is truly beautiful, comes from the truths that we have spoken over her and the scripture that we have taught her. And isn’t that the way that we best hear from God? We fill our hearts with scripture and let the truth of God’s word spill out and overflow into our lives. When our hearts are filled with our Creator’s words, truth comes to us when we need it most.
There is this verse: My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. -John 10:27
When I first heard someone say that God spoke to them, I was skeptical. How could God speak to someone? My experience with prayer had been a one way petition of my desires mixed with a quick plea for forgiveness to escape Hell. I had never truly held conversation with the Creator of the universe. I did not know that this was possible.
Soon I realized it could look like this:
A morning coffee and a text from a friend. She let me know that God put a verse on her heart to send to me. It was the same verse that I had scribbled into the margin of my journal the day before. A confirmation that God was speaking this verse to me.
A song playing in the car on the way to town. The lyrics washing over me and bringing tears to my eyes. “You’re my beloved, you’re my bride, to sing over you is my delight.” God is delighted in me. I am beloved to Him. This song is special. It is from Him to me on this day.
The cashier at the sandwich shop hands me my order. She pauses and grins at me, “You have a beautiful smile!” She says. I hear it in my spirit as I’m walking to my table, “Just a reminder.” He says to me.
Later, I think of a friend and a specific Bible verse pops into my head along with one of my favorite worship songs. I send them both to her. “For you, today.” I tell her. I am a messenger of hope, an ambassador for Christ.
Before supper, we bow our heads. We give thanks and turn our attention toward Jesus. We cast aside the distraction and stress of the day and focus on the One who provided our meal, who gives us our daily bread.
I lay my head on my pillow hours later and He is the last person I speak to today, just like every other day. And this is the richness of my life, this constant connection. This ebb and flow. This being still and bowing low, listening carefully and intentionally to the Creator of my heart. To commune with Him and hear His voice is the most beautiful adventure.
My last thoughts of the day are a prayer: “I pray that she would see you in the everyday moments,” I tell Him. “May she see you in nature, in your creation, in the world around her. May she hear your voice above all of the noise. May she be surrounded by people who speak truth over her and affirm her identity as your daughter. May she commune with you all the days of her life.”
