An afternoon in the park with my family caused me to wonder what it would be like to hear God’s voice with my own ears.
It was the second day of our Michigan vacation and there was rain. Not serious rain, but a half-hearted drizzle. A day on the pontoon wasn’t going to happen, so my husband Lonny and our 5 boys decided to rent kayaks at a nearby park. I chose to spend the afternoon on the dock with a book.
“Call us in at four,” Lonny said. “We need to get the kayaks back on time.”
I watched as all six of my guys snapped into their life jackets, and in combinations of big and small, bent into their four kayaks. They were off! Paddling over the water. Gently breaking a surface that was smooth and still as glass. The lake was small enough that even when at the far edges, they were easily within my sight.
And at four I whistled.
My husband and sons came gliding over the water toward me. They knew the whistle. They understood my call. And they obeyed. They moved to shore and pressed their paddles into the sand, climbed out and stood on the soggy bank. Simple.
I often wish it could be so simple to hear God’s instructions and that He would speak to me audibly. Like Moses standing on sand gone holy because the Lord’s presence was there. Or like sleeping Samuel, pulled from depths of rest by a voice confirmed by a priest.
But God doesn’t speak to me like that. Often it’s a whisper to the spirit. An urge to go to His Word for wisdom, comfort, direction, or peace. It can be a powerful conviction. An outside-of-myself understanding. Or there are times when His Word leans into a life circumstance and fits so perfectly I know that the Lord is speaking directly to me.
I believe that God speaks to His children yet today. And if the voice I hear aligns with His Word, I’m sold.
The Lord still calls to us.
But when my ears fail, I just need to train my heart to hear God’s voice.
