This week I kept myself busy. My husband is out of town and I decided to hit some big projects hard…theoretically so I could work at a slower pace when he returns, but in reality, because I don’t want to miss him (come home Cheyne!).
One of my big projects for the week is speaking at Bayside with one of our senior pastors. This is what I love to do and I was so excited to tackle the message. I spent hours and hours pouring over Scripture and commentaries, wrestling with the story of Deborah. Formerly, knew next to nothing–now, ready to write the book. Formerly, wasn’t too excited about this character–now, a huge fan.
I’m struck that this woman, against her culture, against history, against the plainest of realities, rose up and spoke words that led a nation to battle.
Words are kind of my thing, so I’m inspired! As I wrestled with this passage and struggled to draw the line between Deborah and the people who’ll be sitting in comfy(ish) chairs come Sunday, I was impressed over and over by these four simple words:
“Now Deborah, a prophet,” Judges 4:4
Those words are the necessary preface for everything Deborah is and does.
Deborah, a prophet.
One who hears from God.
One who speaks for God.
Deborah led a nation into battle with her words.
But they weren’t her words.
This counter-cultural history maker was who she was because she heard from God.
So clearly, the application question for potential spiritual giants sitting in Sunday seats is:
Are you listening?
I penciled the question into my message outline but it was stamped in my brain. Was I listening?
I spent time that night sitting by my pool, listening.
The next morning at the office, I tried to read my Bible but was struggling to focus. I shut my office door, closed the blinds, knelt and listened. If God wants to speak, I want to hear.
In those stiller moments, as I forced my caffeine infused brain to quiet, people started popping in my mind. Important situations that deserved prayer but that I’d forgotten while keeping busy. They didn’t come as worries, they simply drew my attention and I felt my whole self go there and reach out to God to ask him to move.
I was mostly silent, listening. I rose up from that place feeling centered. I felt confidence and strength.
That was just from 10 minutes of listening.
Where is God’s voice in our life? Are we silencing ourselves and waiting for him? If he spoke, how long would he have to wait for us to hear?
Listen. Listen. Listen.
From what I know of God, he loves to speak.