Some years ago, as I combed the internet looking for contact information for my best friend from high school, I came across the obituary of his mother. Apparently, she had passed months earlier, which shouldn’t have been surprising, as she was in her eighties. Yet, I was somehow caught off guard, and a profound sense of loss swept over me as I looked at her picture.
My association with this remarkable woman dated back over 35 years, when her son became my closest friend. It was a season in my life when I was floundering to find my identity, and this wonderful family turned out to be a God-send. Though Mike and I didn’t necessarily make great decisions together, our friendship was as substantial and genuine as any I’ve ever experienced. At a time when I desperately needed someone (other than my own family) to believe in me, he did; and so, did his mom.
When I joined the military, it took our lives in different directions, but whenever I was trying to get in touch with Mike, I always knew to start with Mrs. M. She and I had many wonderful conversations over the years, and I sensed an incredible depth to her being (i.e. intellectually, emotionally, and spiritually).
As a black woman, born in the south, during the 1930’s, I can only imagine the tales she could have shared. But this extremely intelligent, highly educated woman never let our conversations be about her. Instead, she was a fountain of warmth and wisdom to and for me. I suppose that shouldn’t have been surprising either, as her life’s work had been that of a teacher.
But, as I sat at my computer, I found myself wishing that I had asked her more questions about her life, and had thanked her more profusely for her generosity toward me. And I couldn’t help but lament that the opportunity to do so was lost.
Along those same lines, I think of my relationship with my father, who I lost over twenty years ago. I would say that we always had a good relationship, but because of my own inner struggles, almost all of our interactions were centered around me and what I was going through at the moment. As such, I never took the time to really know him, or how he came to be the man he was, or even just to learn his personal history. My one regret in our relationship was that I never took the time to understand him like he seemed to understand me.
Truthfully, as I look back on my relationship with all the loved ones I’ve lost, I lament the fact that I spent so much time talking, and not nearly enough time listening. I now recognize that what they had to teach me was so much more valuable than what I had to share with them. Unfortunately, I gave in to the tendency to fill our time up with words, and missed the chance to hear from them. As the old cliché goes, “Dear Younger Me – There is a reason God gave you one mouth, and two ears.”
Indeed, the scripture tells us that we should be quick to listen and slow to speak (James 1:19), and I have found this guidance to be most critical in my relationship with the Lord Himself. As a kid who grew up in the Catholic church, reciting prayers that someone else had penned, I struggled for a long time with how to speak to Him. But as the years have gone on, I realize that what I have to say to Him isn’t nearly as important as what He has to say to me.
Only He knows the end from the beginning (Isa.46:10), only He sees things how they truly are (1Cor.13:9-12), and only He has the words of life (John 6:68). If I want my heart to come into alignment with His, I need to surrender what I think and how it makes me feel, so that I might come to understand what He thinks, and how it makes Him feel.
As I have been a part of many prayer gatherings over the years, I have witnessed our tendency to fill up the atmosphere with words, but the most powerful times have come when I have quieted myself before the Lord, and let Him speak.
To be sure, petitions are an element of prayer, but He already knows the desires of our hearts and what we need. There is also a place for declaration, but unless those words line up with His will in that moment, they are simply wishes. We can even “pray the promises of God,” but I’ve never found that He needed to be reminded of what He said or what He promised.
I frequently hear Christians tout the idea of keeping up with “the news” so that they know how to pray, but the scripture does not support this notion. Not knowing how to pray isn’t an occasion to tune into current events (i.e. what is seen – 2Cor.4:18), it is a time to get in tune with the Spirit of God (Rom.8:26); who stands at the ready to teach us everything we need for godly living (2Pet.1:3). But in order to gain such insight, we must be willing to lay down our own preconceived notions, and open ourselves to hear what He is saying.
In sharp contrast to the torrid rhetoric of our culture, the Bible speaks of the “still small voice (1Kings 19:12)” of God, and tells us of His desire to lead us “by the still waters (Psalm 23).” Solomon extols, that it is better to have a handful of quietness, than both hands filled with travail and vexation of spirit (Eccl.4:6), while Peter speaks of the value that God places on a “gentle and quiet” spirit (1Pet.3:4).
Throughout Jesus’ ministry, we see Him walking away from the crowds and even His disciples, to be in a quiet place with His Father. While the scripture certainly portrays God moving and working in many different ways, there seems to be a special reverence for the place of quiet stillness before the Lord.
In my own journey of faith, I have found that my most profound encounters with the Lord have often been characterized by both of these attributes (i.e. stillness and quiet). Despite the fact that there are many who would likely echo this aspect of my testimony, there seems to be a high degree of discomfort with quietness or stillness within corporate settings; as though we lack confidence in the inner working of the Holy Spirit, unless it is accompanied by some outward (i.e. physical) manifestation. Indeed, we Pentecostal types seem to be more enamored of the shout, but unless these things are initiated by the Holy Spirit, they are nothing more than motion and noise.
Life has most certainly taught me to be a better listener, and that change has been most profoundly experienced within my prayer life. Jesus said that He never acted apart from the reference point of what His Father was doing (John 5:19), and unless we spend time receiving from the Father, we have little hope of ever gaining that perspective. At the end of my life, I don’t want to have the same regret with my heavenly Father that I had with my earthly father.
Bjcorbin's Blog 
Listen Up
November 4, 2024 by bjcorbin
Some years ago, as I combed the internet looking for contact information for my best friend from high school, I came across the obituary of his mother. Apparently, she had passed months earlier, which shouldn’t have been surprising, as she was in her eighties. Yet, I was somehow caught off guard, and a profound sense of loss swept over me as I looked at her picture.
My association with this remarkable woman dated back over 35 years, when her son became my closest friend. It was a season in my life when I was floundering to find my identity, and this wonderful family turned out to be a God-send. Though Mike and I didn’t necessarily make great decisions together, our friendship was as substantial and genuine as any I’ve ever experienced. At a time when I desperately needed someone (other than my own family) to believe in me, he did; and so, did his mom.
When I joined the military, it took our lives in different directions, but whenever I was trying to get in touch with Mike, I always knew to start with Mrs. M. She and I had many wonderful conversations over the years, and I sensed an incredible depth to her being (i.e. intellectually, emotionally, and spiritually).
As a black woman, born in the south, during the 1930’s, I can only imagine the tales she could have shared. But this extremely intelligent, highly educated woman never let our conversations be about her. Instead, she was a fountain of warmth and wisdom to and for me. I suppose that shouldn’t have been surprising either, as her life’s work had been that of a teacher.
But, as I sat at my computer, I found myself wishing that I had asked her more questions about her life, and had thanked her more profusely for her generosity toward me. And I couldn’t help but lament that the opportunity to do so was lost.
Along those same lines, I think of my relationship with my father, who I lost over twenty years ago. I would say that we always had a good relationship, but because of my own inner struggles, almost all of our interactions were centered around me and what I was going through at the moment. As such, I never took the time to really know him, or how he came to be the man he was, or even just to learn his personal history. My one regret in our relationship was that I never took the time to understand him like he seemed to understand me.
Truthfully, as I look back on my relationship with all the loved ones I’ve lost, I lament the fact that I spent so much time talking, and not nearly enough time listening. I now recognize that what they had to teach me was so much more valuable than what I had to share with them. Unfortunately, I gave in to the tendency to fill our time up with words, and missed the chance to hear from them. As the old cliché goes, “Dear Younger Me – There is a reason God gave you one mouth, and two ears.”
Indeed, the scripture tells us that we should be quick to listen and slow to speak (James 1:19), and I have found this guidance to be most critical in my relationship with the Lord Himself. As a kid who grew up in the Catholic church, reciting prayers that someone else had penned, I struggled for a long time with how to speak to Him. But as the years have gone on, I realize that what I have to say to Him isn’t nearly as important as what He has to say to me.
Only He knows the end from the beginning (Isa.46:10), only He sees things how they truly are (1Cor.13:9-12), and only He has the words of life (John 6:68). If I want my heart to come into alignment with His, I need to surrender what I think and how it makes me feel, so that I might come to understand what He thinks, and how it makes Him feel.
As I have been a part of many prayer gatherings over the years, I have witnessed our tendency to fill up the atmosphere with words, but the most powerful times have come when I have quieted myself before the Lord, and let Him speak.
To be sure, petitions are an element of prayer, but He already knows the desires of our hearts and what we need. There is also a place for declaration, but unless those words line up with His will in that moment, they are simply wishes. We can even “pray the promises of God,” but I’ve never found that He needed to be reminded of what He said or what He promised.
I frequently hear Christians tout the idea of keeping up with “the news” so that they know how to pray, but the scripture does not support this notion. Not knowing how to pray isn’t an occasion to tune into current events (i.e. what is seen – 2Cor.4:18), it is a time to get in tune with the Spirit of God (Rom.8:26); who stands at the ready to teach us everything we need for godly living (2Pet.1:3). But in order to gain such insight, we must be willing to lay down our own preconceived notions, and open ourselves to hear what He is saying.
In sharp contrast to the torrid rhetoric of our culture, the Bible speaks of the “still small voice (1Kings 19:12)” of God, and tells us of His desire to lead us “by the still waters (Psalm 23).” Solomon extols, that it is better to have a handful of quietness, than both hands filled with travail and vexation of spirit (Eccl.4:6), while Peter speaks of the value that God places on a “gentle and quiet” spirit (1Pet.3:4).
Throughout Jesus’ ministry, we see Him walking away from the crowds and even His disciples, to be in a quiet place with His Father. While the scripture certainly portrays God moving and working in many different ways, there seems to be a special reverence for the place of quiet stillness before the Lord.
In my own journey of faith, I have found that my most profound encounters with the Lord have often been characterized by both of these attributes (i.e. stillness and quiet). Despite the fact that there are many who would likely echo this aspect of my testimony, there seems to be a high degree of discomfort with quietness or stillness within corporate settings; as though we lack confidence in the inner working of the Holy Spirit, unless it is accompanied by some outward (i.e. physical) manifestation. Indeed, we Pentecostal types seem to be more enamored of the shout, but unless these things are initiated by the Holy Spirit, they are nothing more than motion and noise.
Life has most certainly taught me to be a better listener, and that change has been most profoundly experienced within my prayer life. Jesus said that He never acted apart from the reference point of what His Father was doing (John 5:19), and unless we spend time receiving from the Father, we have little hope of ever gaining that perspective. At the end of my life, I don’t want to have the same regret with my heavenly Father that I had with my earthly father.
Rate this:
Posted in Commentaries | Tagged declaration, listen, listener, perspective, petitions, prayer, praying the promises, quiet, quietness, still small voice, stillness, talking, words | 1 Comment »