In the quiet, between sips of my Folgers, cream no sugar, I hear you. You speak quietly almost imperceptibly but there is no mistaking Your voice. I hear it with my heart, not ears. When you speak I feel a deep calm and warmth spread throughout my soul and perhaps that is Your way of telling me it is You, not my own flawed common sense.
I am still and breathe softly not wanting to disturb the sense of wonder with my impulsive responses. I will myself to listen, stop formulating responses or questions but only listen. God does not always speak in the way, and in my fear of Him, I know better than to interrupt.
There are no audible words, no real conversations, but I begin to sense the Words from Holy Script that I just read are His Words to me. So I reread, and as I do, the Psalms unleash a torrent of tears that flow down my face. In this moment I am very sure of what He wants me to understand. There is never a moment that I am not in His thoughts and they are great.
With head bowed, I do not utter a word. It is too fresh, too precious. I raise me hand to Him in agreement of His promises.
“What is man that You think of him,
or the son of man that you care for him?”