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I locked the upstairs bathroom door as the happy voices of our visiting kids and grandkids rang out from the kitchen below. Tears outlined the strangely fallen features on the right side of my face as I studied myself in the mirror. Bell's palsy, a paralysis that distorts expressions on one side of the face, was in its second swipe since my teen years—and it had returned with a vengeance. Painful swelling exploded behind my right ear, an exhausting business schedule loomed ahead, and I couldn't speak, smile, or even eat without drooling.
"What are you trying to tell me, Lord? You've got my attention," I sniffed at the red-nosed, pathetic face staring back at me. Wiping away my tears on the sleeve of my robe, I asked him point-blank, "What is it you want me to hear?"
It's taken me years to recognize God's voice: those whispered words of encouragement when I'm down; that sudden sense of caution when I'm ready to launch a testy zinger at someone; those much-needed directions at the street corners of my life; tender words of love when I least deserve them; even humor at odd moments. Why is it so surprising that the Living Word, the Author of Life, wants his children to know his thoughts? I've found God sends us his messages in a variety of ways. Here are four ways to hear his voice.
1. God's life-changing Word. I haven't always heard God speak to me. In fact, there was a time when God seemed silent. Even distant. The busyness of caring for four children and fulfilling church commitments conspired to dull any sense of God's voice. Boredom and its cousins, crabbiness and depression, left my soul to dry rot. I wasn't much fun to live with, and I knew it. Each time I yelled a sharp word, I thought, Steve and the kids will just have to understand. I'm having a bad day today. I hoped God wasn't paying much attention.
Then one morning I awoke with a start. Was one of our kids awake early? No, it was just me. Or was it? I felt compelled to go downstairs without even grabbing a robe. Shivering from the early morning chill, I spread an afghan around me and settled on the couch. There was my Bible, untouched for weeks, beside the couch. Picking it up with a twinge of guilt, I looked for an easy place to open and read something … safe. I chose the book of Proverbs and the day's date, the 29th. The first verse froze me: "A man (or woman) who remains stiff-necked after many rebukes will suddenly be destroyed—without remedy."
Was this for me? Was God telling me something about my lousy attitude? Tears welled quickly, as they often do when God speaks. Who can listen casually to something he says? I cried buckets and poured out honest words for the first time in months, telling God how sorry I was for ignoring him, for not bringing him all my needs, all my hunger. Having gorged myself on self-pity, I'd starved my soul. I begged forgiveness for all the miserable words I'd spoken or even thought. The relief was immediate.
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