The very lilt of listen implies peace and comfort, deep breaths in and out, but don’t be fooled:

Listening is risky.

Yes, you might hear, be still, child. Or maybe just as likely, do that scary thing. Or fold that laundry. Or stop and look in her eyes. Hear what hurts her and don’t try to fix it.

See, you never can tell.

To listen is to slow and show up with not only ears, but hands open. Ready for what may come.

Last week, I was shocked by the words given form from my own mouth. I really had no idea they existed until they burst forth hot into the cool air of our bedroom. And I had to pay attention to the frightening reality wrapped up in them.

I am reminded of the story of Samuel. The little boy in the temple who three times heard a voice and mistook it for that of the priest, his leader, Eli.

How often have I done the same? Actually heard God’s voice in a whisper of branches or squawk of bird or laugh of children, in the lines of a song or in the buzz of the overhead light and not recognized it for what it was.

How often have I mistaken the rolling hum for the ordinary?

Eventually Samuel’s teacher instructed him to respond: “Speak, for your servant is listening.”

Yes, God, speak.

When I listen, I suspect I will hear of Your holiness, goodness and grace.

Perhaps, do your part, but not all.

Lay down your rights, but not your dignity.

Show up, daughter, with willingness and even small faith and courage.

I don’t know what I will hear, but I do know I can trust the One speaking.

Joining with the Five Minute Friday community and today’s prompt: LISTEN. 

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