"Oh my God, he listens to me. And I ain't even talking out loud, oh my God."
There have been too many moments to count in my life in which I have not had the last clue what to say to God. I find that's one of my struggles in maintaining this blog actually. I'll confess, it can be tough for me to consistently offer wise, unprompted thoughts on faith. Maybe because I'm not wise, maybe because I'm human, maybe because I'm searching.
But these are the moments in which I am thankful that no words are needed to express everything I feel, or don't feel, to God.
It's like the song we sang too many times at church camp, yet, for some reason, it never really got old to me, "Listen to Our Hearts." There is something about that sentiment that has an immeasurable allure.
Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of ways to go about letting God listen to our hearts that are, well, downright lazy. There is also an allure of an abuse of this element of God's wisdom in which we may be tempted to go through our day, without a passing thought of God, but call it even because we know he was in our hearts... We've all tried that one... I don't think that's quite how it works.
God is ready to listen, He's ready to interpret our silent confusion, our utter helplessness.
We simply have to invite him in. Allow him to read our heart, and open our soul to his infinite wisdom.
Father, enter my heart, overcome my inadequacy, decipher my thoughts, and tell me who I am.
I am nothing apart from you. Consume my soul, pull me in, hold me close.
Listen to my heart.
Lord, may it beat for you.
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