Shhh.....I'm Listening

Sometime in the 80's, my parents took the entire family into a counseling session. I mean the whole family. I was only about 2 years old, making Mason 10, John 8, and Ryan 5. I can see it now. My dad and mom come in, trying to keep a hand on whoever they can. John, with a huge smile, squirms out from under my mom's grasp on his shoulder, Ryan, with a head full of bleach blond hair sheepishly trudges in, and Mason hangs back observing the entire room first. Mason is the oldest, but he would never be found as dominating or dictating the actions of his siblings. Attempting to make a classy entrance was the unmet goal of the hour. My mom sits down in the center of the moss colored curved back sofa, tucks her ankles and makes a space for my dad. The entire family finds a place to sit and the session begins.

The counselor listens to my parents unpack some of the dynamics between the children, and whatever else was on their mind. However, not too far into the session, he says, "Everyone stop." He looks my mother directly in the eye, slightly tilts his head and gently says, "What do you notice about Shannon?" Good counselors are like that. They just watch everything, take it in, and then give you an idea that comes to you like lightning from heaven - an epiphany of sorts.

At two years old, I was climbing all over that sofa like it was a jungle gym. I was wiggling up John's chest, over his shoulders along the couch, down Mason's chest, landing in his lap only to slip down onto the floor. After greeting the floor for a quick second, I would crawl back up, only this time into my mom's lap! As I went from person to person, I would try to grab their face and say, "Look at me. Listen to me."

My incredible mother tells me that I did this often. For the record, me pulling on her face has nothing to do with the amount of attention she gave me. She still listens to me constantly, and she is in fact one of my closest friends.

Now, flash forward to tonight! With Piper asleep and Matt doing the dishes (Thank you Lord for both!), I laid on my back and just soaked in the moment. Motherhood brings a new appreciation of stillness and solitude. Breathing in, "Be Still", and breathing out, "and know" I quoted Psalm 46:10 over myself over and over again. Matt had some music playing in the kitchen, but other than those soft tunes, I could only hear the silence and the words I was thinking, "Be still, and know [that I am God]", "be still, and know", Be still and know". The words came over me like a thick warm flannel blanket on a snowy afternoon.

I began to think about how much I longed to be seen as a child, to be affirmed as a teen, to be heard as a woman, and to be understood as a wife. But now, in this season God seems to be drawing me towards the desire to just "be" with him. My spirit is not anxious to be heard by the Living God, it is not saying, "look at me", "listen to me","do this for me". Instead, I have this inner longing to be still, quiet, and calm with eyes wide, hands open, and heart pulled open and exposed before the Lord. From the deepest part of my soul, I can feel the longing for authentic, simple, rich intimacy with Christ. I can hear my heart saying in this season,

 "Shh, I'm listening."

Psalm 34:8 "Taste and see that the Lord is good...."