Just Listen.

I heard Your every word. Dissected each one, defined each concept, chewed it up 27 times before I… Before I spit it out.

My pen twirled across the paper at every word You spoke. I didn’t want to miss a thing. And I stopped mid-dance to catch my breath… 

But You kept on speaking…

Your words became faster, my hand got slower. Your voice became a whisper and I leaned in closer and closer… Your voice became fainter and fainter…

But You kept on speaking.

My pen kept on writing, my ears kept on searching, my mind kept on scrutinizing, while my heart kept on breaking. “I am determined,” I said, “I am resolved.”

But You kept on speaking.

I looked back at my notes, as I kept on writing… and then, only then, did I realize…

that was I weeping. 

Tear drops had blurred Your words, my very hand had smudged it. But yet will pay attention, yet will I be Your faithful pupil, yet will I write… Every. Word. You. Speak.

And You kept on speaking.

The pain in my hand slowed my pace, the tears in my eyes distorted my sight.

But You kept on speaking. And I kept on weeping. And I kept on writing.

Surrounded by my chaos, crippled by my determination to capture what the world could not contain, my pen fell out of my numb hands. Numb hands too futile to pick up a pen off the floor.

Having nothing to say, nothing to do, nothing to be, I looked up to see the Man still speaking to me.

At Your beckon, I looked down at my writing and realized that in my quest to understand, I could not see that You repeated the same to me thing over and over again… 

I wrote down the same thing over and over again. Over and over again.

“Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me.”

You put my pen down but not away,  

And You kept on speaking. You kept on whispering...

“Just listen.”

I breathed in, the kind of breath that fills my being. And breathed out the kind of breath that releases my being. I am Your son, before I am Your pupil. You must wash my feet before I serve You. I must love You before I can understand You.

“Just listen.”

Lord, I’ll listen.