My wife has trundled out into the cold to drive to her school, and I’m alone again. So, I’m switching on my ears. It’s amazing how much I don’t usually hear around me.
The house is very quiet. But as I tune in, sounds surface. I hear the rhythmic ticking of the clock and the sporadic tink of the baseboard pipes heating. Behind them is the November wind outside, like a mournful tune sung by a ghost. Leaves patter along the street, a sound oddly reminiscent of rain.
This is, of course, connected to my slow stroll through Isaiah. But rather than type it out, I’ll share it in my visual style.
This is how I want to enter my daily time with God. Ears wide open. Prompted by him to listen and learn with an objective – that I may also give a word to sustain the weary. And not trying to evade (literally “slip away backwards”) from the challenges inherent in that.
Master, speak! and make me ready,
When Thy voice is truly heard,
With obedience glad and steady,
Still to follow every word
I am listening, Lord, for Thee:
Master, speak, oh, speak to me!
Frances Ridley Havergal
Reader: Tell me how you train yourself to hear from the Lord.