An Invitation to Listen

In August, summer begins to give way to back-to-school as we trade in swimsuits and popsicles for school clothes and lunches. Even if we’re sad to see summer fade away, we often anticipate the routine and order the school year offers. This August, though, the routine and order looks and feels different from most of the Augusts we’ve faced before. As we grope towards a new “normal” dictated by COVID-19, uncertainty hovers around the borders of our hearts. Can we adjust to this new normal? Will our children, our finances, and our futures adjust? Without an anchor, uncertainty might hold too much sway.

As people who have committed their lives to Jesus’ way, how do we navigate these times of uncertainty that require us to adapt? We might put on our most courageous faces and plow ahead with determination to make it work. But what if, instead, we first slow ourselves, listen, and learn? What if, instead, we face this new season with—yes—courage, but also with the discipline of listening first?

Recently, I was challenged by a journal prompt to listen for God’s voice, to ask God to speak to me. I felt awkward and apprehensive because I was unsure if I would hear an audible voice. If I did hear a voice, how would I know it was God’s? To me, the voice of God seems mysterious and mystical, and that, in my mind, equates to unknowable.

What if, despite these awkward feelings, I chose to press in and see what God might offer? Sitting in my backyard that morning, while the kids played, I took a long breath, let the clamoring thoughts fall by the wayside, and I waited.

I heard nothing.

Into that nothing, anxiety crept back in: anxiety over of my ever-waiting to-do list and anxiety that God might not speak to me. I took another deep breath. I acknowledged the anxious thoughts and refused to pass judgement on them. Instead, I accepted their presence and focused again on listening.

Within a minute or two, as my own mind quieted again, I heard birds chattering and chirping. While that wasn’t an audible voice from the divine, I started wondering if those birds might be God’s response to my prayerful request to hear his voice. But why, I wondered, would this be God’s answer? I knew that I needed to handle this moment with care, otherwise my brain would begin racing, and before I could blink, a convoluted web of thoughts and fears and worries would settle in a haze over my mind. So instead, I chose another deep breath, remembering that it’s good to slow down, to not hurry or worry about what I don’t yet know or understand.

That day, I accepted the sweet sound of birds singing as God’s simple gift to me and trusted that in time, God would begin to show me the significance of hearing those birds in my backyard.

Later that week, I sat outside in my backyard again, hearing the birds sing, and I smiled at the reminder of the Lord’s gift to me just a few days prior. Honestly, I hadn’t paid much attention to the birds singing in my backyard before that week. It took an intentional slowing down and quieting to realize how much bird chatter was happening every day, right in my own backyard. And now, if I try to not hear the birds, it’s difficult. I can’t help but hear them. As I’ve intentionally listened for the birds, I’ve realized the only time I don’t hear them is when I let the noise of everyday life clutter up the space and drown them out.

Can you see how the birds were an invitation to be slow and quiet?

I imagine this is probably true of hearing God’s voice, too. We need to stop, settle our bodies and minds, and listen attentively. We need to quiet the competing thoughts and listen intently.

The birds in my backyard have become my invitation to listen for the voice of the Lord as I lay aside impatience and doubt. To faithfully navigate the time in which we live, I want to be directed by the Lord’s wisdom. As Jesus says, “My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me” (John 10:27 ESV).

Jim Harrison describes a practice called “listening prayer” that, once we’ve quieted our hearts and minds, enables us to hear Jesus’ voice “to receive clear guidance from God in our everyday lives.” In brief, this spiritual practice calls us to specifically ask God for guidance about a particular circumstance, honor silence in that prayer for at least a few minutes, write down what is impressed upon our spirit in that silence, and then confidently act on what the Holy Spirit has directed us to do. In this practice, we see the clear pattern of hearing Jesus’ voice and following him, as described in John 10:27.

Hearing God’s voice for clear direction is necessary, but hearing God’s voice is also medicine for the anxious soul. As writer Brianna George described hearing the Lord speak to hear through a friend, “I felt myself regain clarity, self-control, and focus almost immediately as her words washed like a healing balm over my soul. All the harsh, critical words of just days before began to fade, and I began to experience the righting of my boat back into the calm current toward the destination of my God-given dream.”

Whatever uncharted place or season we find ourselves in, God is willing to share his wisdom, his voice, and his love with us, to keep us tethered to him, the only sure anchor for our souls. These times of social distancing and other new normals have required us to bend and flex and change. Rather than just change, though, can we grow amidst what feels so unusual?

During the month of August, the liturgical church calendar’s focus is on the growth of the church, and change can be a beautiful catalyst for growth when we listen for and follow God’s voice.

Lord, please give us ears to hear, diligence to seek, patience to wait, and clarity to know when you are speaking so that we can walk, learn, and grow with your guidance.

Allison Byxbe is a writer and teacher who lives with her family in South Carolina. When she’s not pondering words, she enjoys hiking, learning about natural health, and drinking the perfect latte. Allison loves to connect with others about family, special needs parenting, mental health, grief, and faith. Her writing has been featured on The Mighty and Her View from Home, and you can find more of it on her blog Writing Is Cheaper Than Therapy.

Photograph © Vadislav Nikonov, used with permission