Pausing to hear

I was writing a blog post tonight, heatedly pouring out my thoughts on paper.  I had just read a chapter in “The Good and Beautiful God” by James Bryan Smith and was inspired to write.  Without much thought, I attacked the problem of modern Christians believing that suffering was the result of sin.  A large percentage of Christians, according to the book, saw a judgmental, vindictive God who repaid sin with suffering. And I had good evidence to support the pervasiveness of this view.  From people offering pat answers for horrific suffering, to televangelists proclaiming to the nation that 911 was the result of sins committed by our nation or New York or even better:  the gay lifestyle. I wanted to change people’s views and convict them of their error and prove to them that God is gracious and just and doesn't want or need suffering.

But this was not what God wanted me to do.  While I was writing, I heard a still small voice in the stirring of my soul that said, “pause for a minute, what did you learn when you were stuck in traffic on the bus today?”  Isn’t that just like God?  In his infinite wisdom, he stops us, calls us to pause, to put aside our striving and just listen.  Listen to the voice inside of us.  Listen to the wisdom in the quiet.  Listen to the birds chirping in the silent hour of dusk as I sit out on my back porch with my dog and watch the sunset.

Incidentally, this is the lesson I learned on that hot, stinking bus, parked in endless traffic on the way home from an exhausting day at work.  I was posting to facebook on my phone and messaging funny responses to my sister and my wife to pass the time.  God stopped me there, on that bus, and just gave me a little nudge.  He said something to the effect of, “why don’t you use this time to reflect, instead of distract.”  I think with the advent of the ubiquitous hand-held devices connecting us to the internet and to our friends and to the latest trends, we forget to take those silent moments throughout our day and instead escape into distraction.

I think if we cannot maintain this discipline of silence and reflection, we will all be stuck as very young Christians, offering pat answers to our suffering fellow churchgoers or introducing them to the suffering we think they unwittingly deserve.