PLEASE, TALK WITH ME

 

My dove in the clefts of the rock, in the hiding places on the mountainside, show me your face, let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely. Song of Solomon 2:14

When was the last time someone sat down, put away his* phone, looked you in the eye and talked with you—not at or to you? And when did someone not only put away the phone but talked with you without glancing at his watch? And listened in return?

Try to remember when you both got to say everything you wanted to say without jumping up to go to the next appointment or the next chore. We are learning to speak in shorthand so that we can express the most concise information in the shortest number of words. And, actually, we’re not even using words nowadays. Consider LOL, BTW, FYI. Do you ever text, “How r u?” “C u sn.” “Agreed?” “K.”

Even with advanced technology, our communication is lousy. And our relationships are suffering for it. We don’t make time to talk; we don’t take time to listen. Let’s face it: conversation is not one of our priorities.  I miss those days when we used to talk.

It shouldn’t surprise us that we don’t have time to pray or to listen to God. There are chores to do; there are projects to complete; there are assignments that are due; there are meetings… “Let me hear your voice…,” the Lover says in Song of Solomon. God wants to stay in touch. He longs for intimacy every day, ongoing dialog where each is speaking, and each is listening. And the relationship is growing.

How long has it been? Knowing his Father’s heart, Jesus showed us how to stay connected—in the morning, during the day, late at night, alone, in public, all the time. Let’s get this conversation going. Pray without ceasing.

And while we’re at it, let’s trying talking with one another…

 

Father, just as we long to hear and be heard, you want to hear and be heard by us. Help us to work on our communication with you—praying and listening—back into the center of our lives. In Jesus’ name. AMEN.

 

*When I was in school in ancient times, “his” was gender-neutral… Indulge me on this, please.