I feel that we left off with kind of a mess. It’s certainly a lot to think about. I imagine a reasonable response might look something like, “Sigh. So, what you’re saying is that I have to do all of these things in order to make it possible for me to get a message from a God who is entirely invisible?” Or, perhaps, “I still don’t understand what “hearing” God is actually like. How am I supposed to go about all of this in a practical sense?”

To this, I can only testify what I’ve come to believe. And, as I’ve said many times, my belief is built on what I’d consider to be quite a firm foundation of both reason and experience.

With this in mind, the first step is quite a conscious one. It’s an act of will. It’s an act of resolve. “I am here, Lord, waiting upon you.”

It can involve a detour from prayerful requests for assistance, and towards merely seeking his presence. The actual plea is really to solve just one problem (which I’d argue is our most important one) and that is to know and love God. We can begin that by simply reaching out. This reaching out doesn’t have to be all dressed up in fine clothing either. In fact, it’s best if it isn’t! “God, to be honest, I don’t even know if you’re there. If you are, I don’t have any idea of what it would be like to hear you but I’d like it if I could.” Or, let’s say you’re a believing Christian but have had little experience of hearing God. You might say, “God, you know I believe in you. Jesus, I’ve surrendered to you. But I don’t actually feel your presence and I certainly don’t seem to be getting many messages from you. Please help me.”

So, let’s say something like this has taken place or will at some point. What’s next?

Well, we need to admit that we don’t actually have to go anywhere specifically. Far more important is to cut out the noise. Neutralize the distractions. (Mind you, this is only one way of beginning. After all, as I mentioned in the first piece in this series, I heard God in a large crowded room with a ton of distractions. But, we’ll get to that in a little bit.)

It could be a room in the house. It could be a place outside with one’s eyes closed. As my friend Ken has repeatedly testified, it could be while driving in one’s car with no radio or music. Or, it could be taking a small break from whatever task is at hand and just centering one’s self.

Psalm 46:10. “Be still and know that I am God.”

One of the ways I began learning how to do this was when I was a high school principal. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who thought I wasn’t busy in that job. I’ve made the statement many times that I don’t think I had five minutes of boredom in all of those years. There were many, many days that seemingly had no breaks. And some of those days lasted twelve hours or longer, each minute seemingly dealing with another challenge. What to do?

So, I developed several habits, one of which was resolving that when I walked across or around the campus, which happened all of the time, that I would just have a conversation with God, even if it was a brief one. I’d lay some of my thoughts (not necessarily concerns) before him and imagine him kind of like walking alongside. (Brother Lawrence helped me with this!) I also silently expressed my joy when I noticed something particularly beautiful such as a regular ed student assisting a severely disabled one, both of them alit with broad smiles. I’d give thanks for all of the beauty I saw, whether it was in people, circumstances or nature. As busy as I was, I tried to make space to see small things … birds, plants, clouds. I’d think of what I could do, with whatever influence I had, to help make this large campus a more loving and caring space for all who entered.

Having said this, let me be clear that this did not happen all of the time. I was told on many an occasion that I appeared so intently focused on a thing (usually some specific objective) that I failed to notice people right in front of me. My ADD and low-grade OCD bring their challenges. 🙂

But, a funny thing happened amidst all of this. I began hearing from God.

I remember one time, having a meeting in my office with one of our counselors. She was fairly late in her career and wanted to see me about a personal issue that was affecting her work. I had some knowledge that she was a practicing Christian but that didn’t enter my mind at the time. (I’d regularly meet with all sorts of people who were encountering all sorts of problems.) Anyway, after what has been probably a dozen years, I don’t remember everything about the conversation but I do remember that she was having trouble getting to the source of the problem, about which I had no direct knowledge. Then, all of a sudden, the whole thing entered my head as if I was reading it in on a piece of paper and this “message” also included specific advice. I was immediately compelled to share it, which deeply shocked her. She was basically speechless and asked me where I’d come up with the information and perspective on what to do. I remember plainly saying, I think God just told me. We both sat in amazement for more than a few seconds, reveling in what had just happened.

This particular incident brings up an important point. God not only speaks directly into our minds and hearts, he also speaks to us through others. All of the time. He speaks to us when we notice others and we are led into relationship with them, however brief. He speaks to us when we suddenly recognize that we are beginning to head down a path that is not healthy. He speaks to us in the midst of our struggles, which doesn’t mean that he always gives us a clear answer but he does let us know that he’s with us all of the way. He speaks to us through our eyes as well as our ears. We can both hear and see God at the same time. We just need to know how and where to look.

Within Christianity, there is the term called “the still small voice.” As my first articulate message from God was that rare audible one, I was unaware of such a term until later, after I’d had subsequent experiences described by this term.

I’m not sure of the origin of the term but I know it’s meant to relate the experience of a kind of thought that interrupts the normal flow of our mind’s activity. Often (although not always), it emerges into our consciousness with crystal clarity, akin to actual spoken or written words. It’s a message that can be completely unrelated to whatever else is going on in our minds at that time. I described this in the first piece of this series, when I related my story of meeting Hoan. This is also what happened in the discussion I just described with my counselor. It’s happened quite a few times over the years.

But, these kinds of clear messages are not the only way God speaks to us. It can also happen through a sudden onset of a specific feeling that, like the still small voice, appears unbidden. Perhaps the word, feeling, is not completely accurate for, in my experience, such events are also accompanied by a realization about something of importance.

One of the most common categories, here, is that of our conscience.

Our conscience is a check on our behavior. It’s a direct pathway between our thoughts and actions on the one hand and our fundamental values, grounded in our accepted truths, on the other hand. It is a message that recalls a moral code, from whatever source that code derives. All conscience is an expression of morality. For those of us who place our trust in God, his nudges are often explicit reminders for us to check our fundamental values and to behave accordingly.

From my experience, there is still another way that God speaks and that is through a kind of accumulation of perceptions and insights over time that ultimately coalesce into a very specific direction. One of my own examples of this is when, a couple of years before I retired, I began to ask God to show me the priorities for living my life after leaving my profession. In essence, this would be the last third of my life. Yes, this was a kind of “arrow” prayer but I wasn’t seeking quick responses. Instead, I was content to just live my existing life within that overall prayer framework, while waiting to see what would unfold. Without going into a lot of detail, I’d say it took the better part of a year (when this was a regular part of my prayer life) until his “answer” became completely clear. And, clear it eventually was. I clearly received three distinct priorities that continue to guide my life six years later.

A final word on this before we move on. It’s reasonable to ask how we know these so-called messages are actually from God, rather than from our own physically and socially constructed imaginations?

It’s a very fair question and I believe I’ve answered it to some degree already, especially in reference to how these messages often arrive out of nowhere and are unbidden. But, I have found there are other very practical ways. A kind of system of checks and balances. One of them is by examining the message in light of the truths that I rely upon. Does the message correspond with my guiding principles, built upon foundational truths which I accept as coming from the Truth that guides me in all things. (A simple test is for me to imagine the Jesus I know as having said the thing, in light of everything I know about Jesus.) Of course, scripture is a good place to go, although I’m not one to cherry pick scripture to get it to correspond with something I’d like to happen! Still another one is to run the message by someone whom I trust has a similar relationship to God as I do and who knows me intimately. All of these become means by which we can attest to the validity that the message is from God and personally directed to me.

I’m not presenting any of this as a perfect formula. I wish I was far better at practicing the presence of God than I really am. I’ve come across people who astonish me in this sense but, fortunately, their example is both beautiful and inspirational. Perhaps in time.

* * * * *

As I’m writing these thoughts down, I’m sitting in a comfortable armchair in a room in our house we call our “office.” There are five very large prints on the wall. The one directly across from me, overhanging the L-shaped desk, is a stunning landscape photograph of Denali Mountain in Alaska. To my right is a print of the signing of the Declaration of Independence, a time and place with special meaning for me. On the long wall to my left are two large framed prints. Both quite famous. The one is Leonardo da Vinci’s The Last Supper and the other is an expanded view of the piece from Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel work depicting the hand and finger of God nearly touching the hand and finger of Man. And just behind me, above my bookcase filled with books on faith is one of my two Rembrandt prints. This one is his Storm on the Sea of Galilee, to which we will shortly go. There are a few other Christian symbols and other elements that help remind me of some of the things that really ground me. All together, they are my anti-noise. This is the space I inhabit when I normally write, the subjects of which are largely unknown to me until the instant they are, after which my fingers just seem to follow as the thoughts flow out. Collectively, I refer to these writings as “A Pilgrim’s Journey: Love Letters to God.”

And, now we turn to the story so beautifully related in the Gospel of Mark. Specifically, Mark 4:35-41.

That day when evening came, he said to his disciples, “Let us go over to the other side.” Leaving the crowd behind, they took him along, just as he was, in the boat. There were also other boats with him. A furious squall came up, and the waves broke over the boat, so that it was nearly swamped. Jesus was in the stern, sleeping on a cushion. The disciples woke him and said to him, “Teacher, don’t you care if we drown?”

He got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, “Quiet! Be still!” Then the wind died down and it was completely calm.

 He said to his disciples, “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?”

They were terrified and asked each other, “Who is this? Even the wind and the waves obey him!”

Please just take a moment to look up this beautiful Rembrandt painting.

The print is on our wall for two main reasons, the most obvious of which is a reminder that our lives are constantly battered by storms. Things which rock our boats when it’s our boats that are supposed to keep us safe. Storms can arise from almost nowhere, unbidden, perhaps merely troubling but, sometimes, terrifying. The second reason is more subtle but, to me, more powerful and worth never forgetting.

You see, as we read this short passage, the disciples (those who have been called to follow Jesus and who have put their trust in him) are suddenly confronted by overwhelming danger. The calm waters that they’ve traversed countless times, some as career fishermen, have quickly boiled up and threaten to swamp their small craft and drown them. They are exceedingly frightened as all of us would be.

By this point, they have mostly become convinced that Jesus is not just a normal prophet. They have witnessed him performing miracles and teaching the most amazing things. While they don’t yet have a full understanding of who he is or why he came, they recognize his power and authority.

But, where is he?

In fact, he is calmly asleep in the rear of the boat, resting comfortably on a cushion. Juxtapose these two images which can be a metaphor for our lives.

We stand in one place, living our lives with combinations of happiness and sorrow, success and failure. And, sometimes, the seas threaten to completely topple us. We are at an end as to how to cope. Yet, where is God?

In our mind, he is not present. We can’t see or hear him. For all practical purposes, he’s asleep on his nice cushion. Oblivious and uncaring.

And, so they awake him. Can you picture it? “Teacher!”, they yell. “Don’t you care about us?”

I love this part. It’s as if they’d seen his love but had forgotten it because he wasn’t fixing their problem. Kind of like saying, “We really thought you loved us but, honestly, it doesn’t seem so because you’re not fixing our suffering! You’re not solving our immediate problem!”

(Sound familiar?)

If not, go back a few postings and remember the thing about genies and wishes. 🙂

So, let’s picture in our mind’s eye the next moment. Jesus, now awakened, probably sat up, maybe stretched his arms a bit as we do when we are awoken and have to stand. And, then he told the wind and waves to be quiet. Settle down. The word that Mark uses is translated as “rebuke,” which means “to disapprove or sharply criticize.” In other words, “Hey wind and waves, cut it out!” To which they immediately obeyed.

With what was probably no hesitation, Jesus then turned to the men (I imagine calmly) and basically asked them, “Why are you afraid? Don’t you trust me?”

Talk about cognitive dissonance and a world changer. “What just happened? Who is this guy?”

In my mind, this is one of the most wonderful stories in all of scripture and it speaks to a truth that I hold dear. God is present whether we recognize it or not. He is not asleep, nor uncaring. He is perfectly able to calm the wind and the seas, however they may be the winds and seas that batter our hearts rather than the ones we think we’re encountering.

To the degree that we recognize that presence and accept who he is in the greatest sense, is the degree to which we can foster the most rewarding of all relationships. And, like all great relationships, the communication can tend to flow easily.

Lord, please forgive me for how much and how frequently I treat you like you’re invisible … out of sight and out of mind. Asleep in the stern while I go about my life. Help me to open my ears to what you have to say. Help me to open my eyes to what you’d like me to see. Help me to open my heart to what you’d have me feel. And help me to use my abilities to do your work while I have breath in my lungs. For you are that breath. Thank you and Amen.