Do you ever hear the voice of God. I'm not talking about an audible sound detected by the physical ear. I am referring to the moments He speaks to our spirits in a myriad of ways. Sometimes that can be difficult for sure. Perhaps it is a dullness that prevents us from hearing caused by our own sin. Maybe we do not hear because we are not listening. Then again maybe the reason we do not hear God is that we are missing that intimacy with Him that makes His voice so recognizable to us.
I was born into a family of five boys (no sisters) and as such we had some pretty adventurous summers in suburban Alabama in the seventies. We fished and swam in a nearby creek. We caught toads, crawfish and tadpoles and the occasional water snake. We climbed things and threw things and kicked things and jumped things. We played lots of basketball and rode our bikes down the maze of streets behind our house.
And almost everyday we would gather with other neighborhood kids to play one of the greatest games ever invented. Whiffle Ball! In a neighborhood like ours this was an afternoon staple and we'd play with that skinny little yellow bat and white ball with the oval holes until dark. And when the sun began to set, we would hear a familiar sound. A sound that meant supper was on the table and home was just around the corner.
The sound of my mother's voice calling was always an aural delight after a good game of whiffle ball, and we knew it was hers. It wasn't really what she said. It was the way she said it. Lots of Alabama moms could yell "WooHoo!"...but not like her. When that voice called, it was time to tuck the bat under an arm and stick the ball in a pocket. We were heading home and chowing down. We loved that voice and its sweet melody! We loved the one from whom it came...still do. We recognized our mother's voice because it was familiar. All our lives that voice has been there guiding us, chiding us, reading to us, praying over us, caring for us in more ways than we could ever count. In so many ways that voice has shaped the person I have become.
It also taught me the importance of listening for the voice of the One Who loves me most...and knows me best. I long for God's voice to speak into and over my life. Of course it does all the time, and I can hear it if I will listen. If my spiritual senses are not dulled by apathy, attitude or actions. If I enjoy an intimacy with Him that comes from time in His Word...time on my knees...and time...well...listening. God's voice is such a sweet melody that comforts me, prays for me, instructs me, encourages me and yes...sometimes chides me. I can hear it when the sun is shining and I can hear it when it begins to get dark. It reminds me that though the night may be hovering near, there is someone who loves me... and home is just around the corner.