This morning I was lying in bed trying NOT to hear God telling me to arise twenty minutes early to clean the shower stall before I leave on a four-day trip.
Performing such a task would be speaking Sharon’s love lingo. It’s how she feels cared for.
The voice persisted; I couldn’t get rid of it.
Finally I relented. OKAAAAY Lord. I hear you. Or I heard what I took to be his voice. Honestly, I wasn’t sure.
Five minutes later I was attempting to practice the presence of God inside our hard plastic shower cube, scrubbing vigorously with cleaning agent and brush.
Here’s my theory on these prayer matters: : start small. If I learn to obey God’s voice in trivial things, I can gradually work up to the big stuff.
After all, successfully listening to God takes practice. Over and over.
“One who is faithful in a very little is also faithful in much.” Luke 16:10.
What if I’m not sure?
Usually there’s some level of question in my mind about whether a prompting is from God. I guess I’m a natural doubter.
Nevertheless, I think the calling is to default to the affirmative.
That is, I assume it’s God unless there’s clear evidence to the contrary (for example, not aligned with Scripture).
But even passing that filter, still: no guarantees.
Yet, I must practice. And in a fallen world, practice makes . . . imperfect.