Seeking the Whisperer

If you’ve ever attempted contemplation or meditation or any of the worship practices that can only happen in solitude, you might find it’s not easily embraced. We’re accustomed to noise and activity. The first time I went away on a retreat to practice solitude, I couldn’t wait for the time to be alone and not be needed by anyone. But what awaited me was a surprise.

When I was alone for the first day, I did what I imagined. I knelt in a quiet room overlooking a rose garden. I had taken prayer retreats with my church, so I was acquainted with practicing God’s presence or seeking God in a waiting posture, not asking for anything. So I did that for a bit and then the silence became nearly deafening. Restlessness caused me to pace. After two days of solitude, I moved out to the rose gardens where I journaled. By the third day, though, I was finally beginning to relax and become accustomed to the silence. That is when I first noticed God speaking to me. Had he been doing that all along? When I leave behind the noise of everyday life, I find out things like that, that God has been talking to me after all. But the place where I live prevents me from hearing him.

The first thing that God showed me was the condition of my own soul. I don’t feel that God does this to make us feel condemned. Women are already innately racked with guilt, so understand that when God does this for me, I sense a benevolent soul hovering over me, guiding me, and helping me to understand why I stumble or why I keep taking the same hills. It’s a necessary examination. Then as I begin to repent of said sin, there is a deep sense of sorrow, especially if my sin has hurt another human. It's when I first understood a true biblical grief.

When I’m home and allowing my life to spin out of the busyness of activities, then I can easily adopt a pseudo-spirituality. I justify my actions, anger, judgmental attitudes by measuring my life by the life of other flawed humans. I might tell myself I had a right to say what I said or think what I thought because that person was in error and as a result, their error was hurting me or someone else. But when I go away for a time of contemplation, then I no longer have those people around me as my measuring stick, just the measure of my own sin-sick life against the radiance of Christ. That is why I think such deep sorrow accompanies the first day or so of contemplation.


"The Lord said, 'Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.' Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper … " (1 Kings 19: 11-13)

My Neighbor's Dog

I’m looking after my neighbors’ dog so they can go to the beach. I felt a bond with him for a long time. When I water my plants, he barks through the fence. He has me trained to bring the water hose over and let him lap the nozzle. He likes his ears massaged. He’s needy, like there’s no end to ear massaging.

I let him in his master’s house at night and then back out in the morning. I keep his water and food dishes full.

Our friends Mike and Jenny are pet sitting a golden retriever named Mattie. I noticed how Mike would go out in the yard and throw the ball for Mattie. She’s such a smart dog. She runs so fast that she catches the ball before it can hit the ground.

I thought maybe I ought to throw the ball around for the neighbor’s dog. I filled his dish again with water and then stepped out into his backyard. Before I could pick up a ball, he nosed me right in the seat of the pants. I caught my balance, turned around, and scolded him. He reared up and shoved me with his paws. I pointed down and said, “Sit!” He reared up on me again, dominating me. We were never going to have any fun throwing the ball, so I thought I’d teach him to at least sit. He refused. He kept shoving me around and nipping at my hand.

The difference between my neighbor’s dog and Mattie is the difference in how they were trained but also in how they responded. Whether indoors our outside, Mattie is a pleasure to be around. From the start, Mattie’s owner was paying attention to her. She wasn’t allowed to dominate the owner. She went from obedience to expressing her natural gifts. When she jumps in the air, tail twirling, feet poised perfectly for the landing, you think she’s flying.

I wonder which dog I’m like to God. Do I respond as soon as he calls? Do I live to sit at his feet or do I run around like mad wanting him to do things my way? Do I give him pleasure or do I trouble him? Am I using my natural gifts to serve His Body? Have I learned to fly?