My mom worries about me. Then again, what mother doesn’t worry about her child? (I am sure there are some, but let’s not delve into that pit okay? K)
She really worries about me. How do I know this? Well occasionally she tells me. Other times she tells my sister, who then tells me. Like for instance, after my high school graduation. She worried that I would run off to join the circus and they would never see me again. A couple of things wrong with this scenario….one I had already made big plans for my future at UT, and two I am deathly afraid of clowns. The circus was not an option.
I also have a bit of the daring gene in my blood. I seem to find trouble, either physically or verbally. Granted I was a reasonably good kid growing up, I only got in one fist fight and let’s be honest, who didn’t want to punch David in the neighborhood? Mom worries my mouth will get me in trouble that I can’t get out of one day.
Lately, God’s been pressing that point in on me as well. He has been very explicit in telling me to be quiet and to listen. That has been incredibly difficult to bear, much less to follow through on. I want to scream. I want to fight it out. But more and more God keeps pressing His gentle hand over my mouth, whispering “Just listen.”
At first I thought it was to those around me, that I had been ignoring some things that were being said. Then I thought it might be that I was just hearing and not truly listening anymore. (As I told a student, those are two different things.) I finally got it though just yesterday.
I took a jaunt out to hike (another thing my mom worries about with me) and got just how quiet it was there. Normally I pop in headphones and listen to a particular album while I hike, but yesterday I just wasn’t feeling music. God knew I needed to listen, for Him. He pulled me out there in the great quiet to hear Him. I scrambled and slid to the base of a waterfall, and stood with eyes closed and a big ol grin on my face.
Because I was hearing Him, I was fully seeing Him. It was breathtaking and emotional. It was truth on display for me. He needed me quiet. All of me quiet. So that He could speak. So that He could show. That I would hear and see exactly what He needed me to see, about Him and about myself.
Sometimes we need only listen.
After all, most of what we worry about doesn’t come true and all that we hope for does, if we but listen and see.