Hard to Listen

Thurs, Feb 4, morning

Place:
Prayer closet

My prayer:
Seems like the higher the summits I reach, the deeper the valleys—I always have to come back to the bottom, to my core, to the same deep pit I started from.

Mental picture:
Colorado valley, with steep mountain walls reaching both low and high.

Spirit whisper:
The valley floor is still a mile high.

The better part of the next hour is spent reading the Bible, praying, and seeking understanding for a piece to be written for Bullets & Butterflies. I leave the prayer closet for an interruption, then wander into the bedroom and sink down into a chair. I feel tired.

My prayer:
You're not a genie I can just call up on demand. I need You to talk to me. I don't seem to be hearing Your voice.

Abba whisper:
You know where to find Me.

I go back to the prayer closet. I'm trying to pray but feel like I'm wandering in circles through clouds.

Me:
You're hard to hear.

Abba:
You're hard to listen.

More mental wandering.

Me:
You give and take away. It’s hard when You take away.

Abba:
Isn’t what I give back always better?

Me:
It’s all a muddle right now, a mess.

Abba:
I like to clean up messes. I chose you, didn't I?

Me:
That's not funny. I feel like all I'm hearing is my own voice. If You want me to blog prayer I need to hear from You. And if it's not going to sound contrived, I need to hear what wouldn't come from me.

Abba:
This is not a game.

(I sit quietly a while, feeling chastised for being demanding. Then I pray for spiritual protection, and intercede for others.)

Me (an hour later, while in the car, thinking about this blog):
I don't want to be embarrassed to have started something I can't follow through on.

Abba:
It isn't about them. It's about Me. You pay closer attention to Me now. You listen more carefully for My voice.

Me:
You had me do a blog so I'd listen better?

Abba:
Whatever it takes.

Me:
Argh! [pause] You’re being hard on me.

Abba:
You can take it. I’m in you.