Hearing God's Voice

by Rev. Dr. Amy Chilton on 02/22/24

A prayer for those who seek God’s voice,

Blessings,

Pastor Amy

“She Said, ‘How Do You Know When You are Hearing from God?”                By Amena Brown^[1]

 

She said, “how do you know when you are hearing from God?”

I didn’t know how to explain

It is to explain the butter grit of cornbread

            to a mouth that just discovered it has a

            tongue

The sound of jazz to ears that only ever thought

            they’d be lobes of flesh

The sight of sunsets to blinded eyes that in

            an instant can see

To fail at the ability to give words to how the scent

            of baked bread can make the mind recall a

            memory

Every detail

of a house, a room, a kitchen, a conversation

Like explaining to a newborn baby this is what it

            feels like to be held

My words never felt so small, so useless,

            so incapable.

 

I wanted to say

Put your hand in the middle of your chest

feel the rhythm there

I wanted to say you will find the holy text in so

            many places

On crinkly pages of scripture

In dusty hymnals

In the creases of a grandmother’s smile

The way she clasps her hands

The way she prays familiar, with reverence as if to

            dignitary and friend

The way she sings a simple song from her spirit

            and porches turn to cathedrals

 

I learned from my great-grandmother how to pray

How to talk to God

How to listen

Watching her and the other silver-haired church

            mothers gather in her living room

Worn wrinkled hands on top of leather bibles

            well traveled

 

They prayed living room prayers because you

            don’t have to be inside the four walls of a

            church to cry out to the God who made you

Because no matter where you sing or scream or

            whisper God’s ears can hear you

And despite what the laws say or what your

            humans flaws say

God’s ears don’t play favorites

God’s ears don’t assess bank accounts or social

            status before they attune themselves to the

            story your tears or your fears are telling

 

God’s ears are here for the babies

For the immigrant, for the refugee

For the depressed, for the lonely

For the dreamers

The widow, the orphan

The oppressed and the helpless

Those about to make a mess or caught in the

            middle of cleaning one up

Dirt don’t scare God’s ears

God is a gardener

God knows things can’t grow without sun, rain,

            and soil

 

I want to tell her to hear God

you have to be willing to experience what’s holy

            in places many people don’t deem to be sacred

That sometimes God sits next to you on a barstool

spilling truth to you like too many beers

That God knows very well the dance we’ll do

When we love ourselves so little that just about

            anyone will do

That God cares about the moments we find our-

            selves

on the edge of a cliff

on the edge of sanity

on the edge of society

Even when we have less than an inch left of the

            thread that’s been holding us together

 

I want to tell her God is always waiting

Lingering after the doors close

and the phone doesn’t right

and we are finally alone

God is always saying

I love you

I am here

Don’t go, stay

Please

 

I try to explain how God is pleading with us

To trust

To love

To listen

That God’s voice is melody and bass lines and

            whisper and thunder and grace

 

Sometimes when I pray, I think of her

How the voice of God was lingering in her very

            question

How so many of us just like her

Just like me

Just like you

Are still searching

Still questioning, still doubting

I know I don’t have all the answers

I know I never will

That sometimes the best thing we can do is put our

            hands in the middle of our chest

Feel the rhythm there

Turn down the noise in our minds, in our lives

and whisper,

God

Whatever you want to say

I’m here

I’m listening.