The World Is Loud. Can You Still Hear Him?

This morning I was reading Isaiah.

And if I’m being truthful, Isaiah is sometimes one of those books where I have to slow WAY down.

I read a verse.

Then I read it again.

Then sometimes I sit there wondering, Wait…what did I just read?

But this morning something felt different.

As I read Isaiah 1, 3, and 5, I started noticing the warnings.

Isaiah was trying to wake people up.

He warned them about pride. About becoming consumed with the things of the world. About trusting their own wisdom. About moving farther and farther away from God while somehow still believing they were doing just fine.

And then I got to Isaiah 5:20:

“Woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil.”

I stopped.

Because suddenly Isaiah didn’t feel ancient.

It felt like Tuesday morning.

It felt like right now.

There are so many voices.

We live in a world where everyone has something to say.

Open your phone and within minutes someone will tell you what you should believe, what you should be worried about, what kind of mother you should be, what your marriage should look like, what success looks like, what your body should look like, what truth is, what happiness requires, and probably seven things you are currently doing wrong.

And then there are the voices that don't come from our phones.

Fear has a voice.

Comparison has a voice.

Grief has a voice.

Other people's opinions have a voice.

Our past has a voice.

And sometimes my own brain is the loudest one in the room. My brain tells me...

You need to figure this out.

You need to fix this.

What if this doesn't work out?

What if they never change?

What if you made the wrong decision?

What if you aren't doing enough?

I know too, know these voices.

I also know what I tend to do when they get loud.

I try harder.

I make a plan.

I start looking for answers.

I think through every possible outcome. Then I think through them again...just in case I missed one.

I am a fixer by nature. I like solutions. I like knowing what comes next.

And sometimes I can become so busy trying to figure out what God is doing that I forget to actually sit with God.

Then I thought about President Nelson.

One of his invitations has stayed with me for years:

Hear Him.

Two words.

Simple enough to put on a notebook or a bracelet.

But I don't think that invitation was ever meant to be casual.

President Nelson once warned:

“In coming days, it will not be possible to survive spiritually without the guiding, directing, comforting, and constant influence of the Holy Ghost.”

Survive spiritually.

Those words feel different to me now.

Maybe because the world really does feel louder.

Maybe because life has taught me how quickly circumstances can change.

Maybe because I have watched people I love make choices I never expected. I have experienced loss I couldn't fix. I have prayed prayers that weren't answered the way I wanted them answered.

There have been seasons when I desperately wanted God to tell me what was going to happen.

And He didn't.

But... He stayed.

I think I am beginning to understand that sometimes Hear Him isn't about receiving the entire answer.

Sometimes it is receiving enough light for the next step.

Sometimes it is peace before anything has actually changed.

Sometimes it is a thought that keeps returning.

A scripture that suddenly feels personal.

A prompting you almost dismiss.

A quiet feeling that says,

Go this way.

Call her.

Wait.

Apologize.

Let it go.

Stay.

Trust Me.

And perhaps that is why learning to recognize His voice matters so much.

Because His voice usually doesn't compete with the noise.

It invites us out of it.

Isaiah didn't only warn them.

This might have been my favorite part of my study.

Isaiah could have stopped with the warnings.

He could have simply listed everything Israel was doing wrong and all the consequences coming because of it.

But he didn't.

Right in the middle of correction came an invitation:

“Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow.”

Come.

I love that.

God's response to people who had wandered wasn't, Stay away from Me.

It was,

Come.

And that feels so different from the voice of the adversary.

The adversary says,

Look what you've done.

Jesus says,

Look what I can do.

The adversary says,

You should be ashamed.

Jesus says,

Come.

The adversary tells us our mistakes have determined our future.

Jesus keeps offering redemption.

Maybe that is one of the ways we learn to recognize which voice we are listening to.

One voice pushes us into hiding.

The other keeps inviting us home.

Maybe the warning is actually evidence of love.

I used to think of prophetic warnings mostly as cautions.

Don't do this.

Watch out for that.

Stay away from this.

But today I saw them a little differently.

A warning means someone can see farther down the road than I can.

God knows where certain roads lead.

And because He loves us, He doesn't wait until we arrive at the painful ending to tell us.

He sends prophets.

He sends scripture.

He sends promptings.

He sends people.

And sometimes He repeats Himself.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Not because He is frustrated that we haven't figured it out yet.

Perhaps because He loves us enough to keep calling.

So today I am sitting with President Nelson's invitation differently.

Hear Him.

Not just when I need a big answer.

Not just when something goes wrong.

Not just after I have exhausted every other option and finally remember to pray.

Every day.

Especially when the world is loud.

Because maybe the question isn't whether God is speaking.

Maybe the better question is:

What voice has been the loudest in my life lately?

Fear?

Culture?

Someone else's opinion?

My own expectations?

And then the question I really want to carry with me this week:

What would happen if I turned that voice down long enough to hear Him?