So many times we say that it is difficult to hear God’s voice. His is the still, small voice that we need to quiet ourselves to hear and that work is trying for our fast-paced, boisterous souls.
The other day, I had some car problems. It wasn’t really my problem, but a problem with the mechanic working on the car. He messed something up after changing my oil and my car would only start in time for it to stall again.
I became angry. I wanted to tell off the mechanic. He didn’t know what he had done. I was getting late for work. I was going to have to call my friend and push back our accountability meeting that is supposed to help me become more like Jesus. Blast it! Why is this happening to me?! I was ticked off.
And then I thought about this book I’m reading about hearing God. I realized that I wasn’t hearing God at all at that moment.
In fact, I was overcome with hearing the voice of my anger and the voice of my inanimate car. It was broken and it’s brokenness was bull-horning through my brain. I couldn’t hear anything – not even God – over the din of this hunk of metal, plastic, and plush seating.
Why is it that we let inanimate things speak so loudly in our lives?
Why do we let their noisy, dead voices overcome the soft, living voice of God?