I love to listen to audiobooks in the car. It makes the miles fly by as my mind is occupied with a good story. All is well, until I’m in a new place, and I need to find my way. Then, I have to turn the story off. It’s hard to listen when I’m trying not to get lost.
I enjoy listening to podcasts while I’m making dinner or doing the dishes. It makes the mundane an adventure. All is well until I try a new recipe. If I don’t want to forget a key ingredient, I have to turn the podcast off. It’s hard to listen to another voice when I’m following someone’s directions.
And few things are better than dancing in the kitchen with my kids, with the music up loud, and the shades down low. Ask my dance partners, they’ll tell you, my dancing is kitchen dancing, not fit for anyone else’s eyes. All is well until one of them has a question or a story to tell. If I want to know what they’re saying, I have to turn the music off. It’s hard to listen to the question when my ears are filled with rhythm.
How do you prepare to listen? Are there spaces and places more conducive to listening? Tomorrow, we’ll turn down the music, and shut off the podcasts, and set down the phones. And in the quiet, we’ll listen together, for the still small voice of God.
I’ll see you tomorrow,
PS. Listen: Hearing that Still Small Voice and Finding Your Own is a our Lenten Sermon Series, designed by Marcia McFee.