Incline Your Ear and Hear

You Have Ears — But Are You Listening?

Opening Our Hearts to the Still, Small Voice of God

Have you ever had someone standing three feet away talking to you...

and suddenly realized you hadn't heard a single word they said?

Your ears were working perfectly.

Your eyes were open.

You were even nodding occasionally.

You may have thrown in a well-timed      “Uh-huhs.”

But your brain?

Your brain had apparently packed a small suitcase and left town.

Most of us know exactly what that's like.

We can look straight at something and never really      see it.

We can hear every word someone says and completely miss its meaning.

Jesus knew this wasn't just a human communication problem.

It was a spiritual one.

Eyes That See and Ears That Hear

When His disciples asked why He spoke in parables,      Jesus gave an astonishing answer.

Some people looked,

but they didn't really see.

Some people listened,

but they didn't really hear.

Their ears worked.

Their eyes worked.

Yet their hearts had become closed.

Jesus wasn't talking about eyesight or hearing tests.

He was talking about something much deeper:

the heart's ability to recognize God's presence and respond to His voice.

Then Jesus says something beautiful to His disciples:

“Blessed are your eyes,      for they see;      and your ears,      for they hear.”

That is the kind of seeing and hearing I want.

I don't merely want to know   about   God.

I want to   know   God.

I don't merely want to read the words of Jesus.

I want those words to transform the way I live.

And I don't merely want to spend my life talking to God.

I want to listen.

God Says, “Lean In”

Isaiah gives us this beautiful invitation:

“Incline your ear,      and come unto me:      hear,      and your soul shall live.”

Proverbs echoes the same thought:

“Incline thine ear unto wisdom,      and apply thine heart to understanding.”

I love that phrase:

“Incline your ear.”

It describes something active.

It doesn't say:

“Sit there until wisdom accidentally bumps into you.”

It says:

Lean in.

Turn your attention toward God.

Listen intentionally.

Open your heart.

That's important because listening requires something from us.

If someone we deeply love whispers something important to us,

we naturally lean closer.

We don't turn up the television.

We don't start checking email.

We don't begin explaining to them what we think they were probably going to say.

We lean in...

because we don't want to miss a word.

To me,      that is a beautiful picture of Centering Prayer.

We lean our hearts toward God.

Giving God the Microphone

This is one reason I find Centering Prayer so meaningful.

It gives me a quiet place to lean in.

It  isn't  about trying to manufacture a spiritual experience.

It  isn't  about forcing God to speak according to my timetable.

And it certainly  isn't  about handing God my daily agenda and asking Him to sign at the bottom.

It's about becoming still enough that my own thoughts are no longer competing for God's microphone every five seconds.

And my thoughts can put up quite a fight.

I've discovered that my mind is a talented storyteller.

Before breakfast,      it has already imagined three arguments that never happened,

solved two problems that don't actually exist,

rewritten yesterday's conversation four different ways,

and planned next Tuesday      —

even if today is only Thursday.

My imagination deserves an award for productivity.

My peace,      however,      would prefer a coffee break.

Putting the 1,000 Squirrels to Sleep

I like to imagine my mind as an attic.

And apparently my attic came fully furnished with approximately 1,000 squirrels.

One is worrying about tomorrow.

Another is chewing on yesterday.

Three are rearranging problems that I've already solved.

A dozen are chasing something I can't even remember.

And somewhere in the back,

two squirrels appear to be arguing about something I said back in 1987.

It's a busy attic.

When I become still before God,

the squirrels gradually begin settling down.

They stop chewing on the wiring.

They stop racing across the rafters.

They stop reorganizing every box marked “Things Bill Cannot Possibly Change.”

And eventually...

the attic becomes quiet.

Centering Prayer isn't about becoming less aware.

For me,

it is about becoming more aware.

When the noise settles,

I begin noticing God's goodness in places I would have hurried right past.

I become slower to react.

Quicker to forgive.

More patient with other people.

And      —

perhaps most surprisingly      —

more patient with myself.

Discord Sneaks In Quietly

Discord often begins quietly.

Rarely does it march into our lives accompanied by a brass band and a giant flag announcing:

“ATTENTION!      YOUR PEACE IS NOW LEAVING THE BUILDING!”

That would actually be rather helpful.

Instead,

discord slips in through tiny cracks.

A little resentment here.

A little pride there.

A little fear.

A little impatience.

A little anger we decide to keep around because we have become strangely fond of it.

Before long,

our hearts begin sounding like an orchestra where every musician has decided to play a different song.

The trumpet is playing Beethoven.

The violin has chosen country music.

The drummer appears to have joined another band entirely.

And our peace is sitting in the back wondering what happened.

Harmony returns when we allow God to become the Conductor again.

We stop insisting on playing our own song.

We become still.

We listen.

And we allow Him to lead.

How Do We Recognize His Leading?

The more I learn to listen for Christ's guidance,

the more I discover that His Spirit consistently leads toward      the very qualities that Scripture calls      the fruit of the Spirit:

Love.

Joy.

Peace.

Patience.

Kindness.

Goodness.

Faithfulness.

Gentleness.

Self-control.

These become important signs along our spiritual road.

If what I believe I am hearing leads me toward

hatred,

pride,

cruelty,

revenge,

or selfishness,

I need to stop and discern carefully.

Because those things don't resemble the fruit Jesus is trying to grow.

But when the result is greater love,

greater peace,

greater patience,

greater kindness,

and greater willingness to serve      —

we begin looking more like Christ.

Those qualities don't merely make us nicer people.

They transform the atmosphere around us.

Peace has a way of spreading.

Kindness has a habit of multiplying.

Love has an amazing ability to enter a room before we've finished speaking.

God Starts With One Heart

Sometimes we imagine that changing the world requires changing millions of other people.

That's convenient,

because changing other people is always much more appealing than changing ourselves.

We can usually produce a very impressive list of people God ought to straighten out.

Jesus often begins with a much shorter list.

Me.

You.

One heart.

One decision.

One act of forgiveness.

One act of kindness.

One quiet morning at a time.

Before God changes the world   through us,

He often begins by changing the world   within us.

And that transformation begins when our hearts become willing to listen.

The Kingdom Begins Changing the Way We Live

I believe this is why Jesus placed such emphasis on hearts that can truly hear Him,

and eyes that can truly see Him.

When our hearts become attentive to God,

we begin living differently.

We love more freely.

We forgive more quickly.

We become less interested in winning every argument      —

which can be terribly disappointing when we have spent twenty minutes preparing an excellent comeback.

We become more interested in serving Christ.

The Kingdom of God is no longer merely something we read about.

It begins shaping the way we think,

the way we speak,

the way we treat people,

the way we forgive,

the way we spend,

the way we serve,

and the way we live each day.

Imagine What Could Happen

Imagine neighborhoods filled with people who genuinely sought God's wisdom before speaking in anger.

Imagine families where forgiveness became more common than keeping score.

Imagine marriages where winning the argument became less important than loving the person.

Imagine churches where humility mattered more than being right.

Imagine communities where people stopped asking,

“What's in this for me?”

and started asking,

“Lord,      how may I serve?”

Imagine nations led by people who sincerely desired justice,

mercy,

wisdom,

and peace.

We often think such a transformation would have to begin with millions of people.

But perhaps we're thinking too big.

God has always been remarkably good at starting with one person.

Abraham.

Moses.

Samuel.

David.

Elijah.

Mary.

Peter.

Paul.

One person who hears.

One person who trusts.

One person who obeys.

One person willing to say:

“Here I am.”

It Begins With Listening

That enormous vision begins much smaller than we often imagine.

It begins with one person becoming still before God.

One person opening their eyes.

One person inclining their ear.

One person opening their heart.

One person willing to put aside the noise long enough to listen.

That is at the heart of Centering Prayer.

We aren't trying to force God to speak.

We aren't trying to create something supernatural through our own effort.

We are making ourselves available to God.

We become still.

We listen.

We discern.

We trust.

And when Christ leads us,

we obey.

Jesus said:

“Blessed are your eyes,      for they see;      and your ears,      for they hear.”

Isaiah said:

“Incline your ear,      and come unto me.”

Proverbs tells us to:

“Incline thine ear unto wisdom,      and apply thine heart to understanding.”

Again and again,

Scripture gives us the invitation.

Come.

Open your heart.

Incline your ear.

Listen.

And perhaps the greatest obstacle isn't that God has nothing to say.

Perhaps we're simply so busy talking,

planning,

worrying,

arguing,

rushing,

and supervising those 1,000 squirrels in the attic

that we haven't given ourselves enough quiet to hear Him.

So tomorrow morning,

before the squirrels wake up,

before the world starts shouting,

and before our own plans begin demanding attention,

we can become still before God.

We can open our hearts.

We can incline our ears.

And we can quietly pray:

“Lord Jesus...      I'm listening.”

Then comes the important part.

Don't immediately start talking again.

Give God the microphone.

And listen.

Questions for prayer:
          What do these passages reveal about God?
          What response does it ask of me?
          Is the impression I receive consistent with the character and teaching of Jesus?
          What loving and faithful action should follow?

Daily prayer:

How may I serve You this day?”