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A Still Small Voice

What do you hear when God speaks to you? What does the voice of God sound like to you? Do you know?

I frequently tell people stories that include phrases like: “and then God said to me…” or “I could feel the Holy Spirit nudging me…”. More often than not, if people say anything, they tell me God doesn’t speak to them. I know this to be impossible because there is absolutely nothing special about me. If God speaks to me, He speaks to you. He speaks to all of us.

I wonder if part of the problem is that we listen for His voice in the wrong places or ways. Like today’s first reading. The prophet Elijah is waiting “for the Lord to pass by” on Mount Horeb. Strong winds sweep the mountain, crushing stones.
But God is not in the wind. An earthquake shakes the very ground he stands on. But God is not in the earthquake. A fire breaks out upon the mountain, but God is not even in the fire. Instead, Elijah hears a whisper and bows before the Lord.

Don’t we often expect God’s voice to come to us in big, pronounced ways? Like our own burning bush moment or a James Earl Jones voiceover from the clouds. While God is certainly capable of big revelations like this, most often He speaks to us in that whisper—sometimes translated “a still, small voice” spoken in our hearts. We only need to be looking, listening, quiet, and calm enough to hear it.

 Instead of looking for God to set up a billboard for us, let us create that time and space to listen for His still, small voice speaking to us in our hearts.

The Hidden Room

Whenever I am invited over to a house I am always reminded of the times when my family had the priest over for dinner. I remember how special it was that Father so and so was going to be sitting at our table. I also remember how much work it could be as well. While the visit itself was fun, the preparation for the priest’s visit was a different matter. Growing up in a family of seven, our house was not the most organized. This meant that afternoons were spent with every child’s favorite past time: chores and cleaning.

On the day of Father’s visit, all hands were on deck to make the house presentable. As the hours ticked by, my siblings and I used every trick we knew to excuse ourselves from the task at hand (much to the frustration of my parents), until time inevitably began to run out.

With plenty of toys and hobbies still spewed throughout the house, my Mother would give one final desperate command: “throw everything in the bedroom”! It was an easy, efficient, and effective solution. When Father arrived he walked into a clean and put together household. Little did he know that behind a certain closed door lay a chaotic mess.

I am sure many families share this particular experience (which is why I don’t go opening closed doors during visits), but all of us can also relate on a personal level as well. How many of us do exactly this in our interior life? How many of us, worried about the mess in our emotional, spiritual, physical house, throw it all into a hidden room of our heart? How many of us hide our mess even from God?

I know I do. I want people to see me as an organized, well put together person. In a strange way I even want God to see me in this way. So I hide my mess, I stressfully gather it all up and throw it in a separate room to be dealt with later. The problem is, I often do not deal with it later and I keep piling the mess even higher. Even more ironic, it’s the houses that are not the most organized which make me feel right at home, partly because it makes it all more human.  

God did not become man in the person of Jesus Christ because we are organized and put together. God became man because we are a mess. The more we hide our mess from him the less he can help us truly clean up. So I guess the question is: what mess are we hiding from God?

Everything

Do you remember the first time you stepped into St. Dominic Catholic Parish?  What were you feeling and what was your experience? I recently recalled that moment when I was hired 8+ years ago. Walking into an interview with 13 people around the table and, just weeks later, walking into a parish of over 8,000 members was daunting.  Fr. Dave, the pastor at that time, asked me to memorize everyone from the parish directory! I am still learning names. 

What were my first experiences? I was overwhelmed with the friendliness, kindness, and welcome spirit from so many parish members. There were many memorable “firsts” which will be eternally forged in my memory. It was the spirit of the parish and its faithful members who made me feel at home.  Many of you know my story. However, being single and blessed to serve in a parish with a vibrant school, parish leadership, and staff was easy due to the warmth and love I felt.

I recall my first Dominic Days annual festival, sitting in a row of chairs and finding an amazing family sitting next to me, strangers who I now call my friends. The festival is a wonderful opportunity for our entire parish family to welcome everyone to our festivities. Each one of us is the face and heart of St. Dominic. Even if people come for food, games, music, and fun, this is our opportunity to be the disciple Jesus calls us to be by welcoming the stranger and inviting them to join us at Mass.

In my morning prayer, and throughout the day, I often incorporate music that often speaks the words that my heart cannot verbalize. One of my favorite musicians and vocalists is Lauren Daigle, a woman who loves Jesus and draws us into her relationship with him. One of her many songs, “Everything,” speaks to my heart often. “When I can’t see, you lead me, when I can’t hear, you show me, when I can’t stand, you carry me. When I’m lost, you will find me, when I’m weak, you are mighty, you are everything I need… You give me everything...”

At this special event, I am humbled by the enormous generosity of people dedicating their time and energy, people who give of their heart to serve the parish. It is then when I realize that yes, Jesus, you give me everything, you give us everything. I witness Jesus in our celebration of the Eucharist but also in each one of you. Join me at the festival in being the face of our welcoming parish family and drawing others into our community who receives everything from the God who loves us.