I’ve spent the last 24 hours tuning in to a world wide podcast “gathering” based out of Austin Texas called IF Gathering. If you haven’t heard of it…look it up. It’s an incredible group of women leaders who get together to unite, empower, and bring Christian Women together to serve right where they are…I have been watching it at an actual IF Gathering local house, but also at home because Grace was up all night with a fever, and Dyp has to work.

But even from thousands of miles away I have been fed, and touched by the words and messages…so incredibly deeply. It was almost too much to write this today because I’m still in the deep sleep retreat mode, of solitude and listening to what God wants me to hear. There is so much to hear…

About a year ago, maybe more, I started noticing I was losing hearing in my left ear. It wasn’t a surprise because my grandfather was partially deaf, as was my Aunt, and my Dad is hard of hearing now in one ear. I still haven’t went in(I know I should) but I don’t hear as well in that ear. If we are in a crowded place and my kids talk to me on that side I can’t hear them. If someone hollers my name outside of the school and that side is facing them, I can’t hear them. I’ve began to look at people’s mouths more even though I still can hear in both, however if there are a lot of people that ear just can’t do it.

I have to say to my kids “look right at me.”

It is frustrating. For my family. For me.

Today as I watched the Sessions, and as I prayed I kept hearing the words: Listen.


Which is funny because sometimes when I want to listen I can’t hear.

But then I started to think. Recently my teenager has mentioned how I interrupt him, especially when I am frustrated and I “don’t listen!” And I began to understand how that must hurt so deeply, to have someone so unwilling to listen.

I know I feel that way. When I’m trying to explain something, and someone has already decided what their decision is, or their opinion is…and do not listen.

And it hurts. And I feel small.

And I thought of how even though I try to listen to all their stories, to remember all the little things they have to tell me- that there are days when I’m just tired. Where all the running around, and activities have made me a really bad listener.

And that’s when I should be striving to listen. We find out the important things in the passing moments.

And I think of last year.

I said today to someone that last year was the worst year of my life…but really it wasn’t the worst, it was the hardest. And really I think that much of it was I didn’t feel like God was listening.

“Why aren’t you listening?”

And now…this year I have a deeper faith than I ever have had. Not without trials, not without bad days, but everyday is felt and appreciated. I am grateful. And the hard and shattered, gave me an outlook I could never have felt had I not lived it.

Now. I. Live.

God was listening.

God was listening as I sat surrounded by darkness, watching myself slowing unravel.

God was listening as I plead for healing. God was listening as I made my way, battered and broken, and completely ravaged by my own guilt and anxiety.

The darkness lied. I had been there.

But I hadn’t been alone.

He was listening.

And there was beauty when I began to restore. Heal. It isn’t one of those crazy quick things…I have had to work for it. I have to work so hard.

Somedays I just want to say “Listen, today I just need it to be easy.”

And somedays now, it is.

But every day he listens. Regardless.

We forget in our lives where we have become so dependent on ourselves…that he hears us…

He hears you.

In the loud.

He hears you.

In the deepest quietest part of your heart.

He hears you.

In the wind and the rain.

He hears you.

In the tragic.

He hears you.

In the betrayal.

He hears you.

In the sickness.

He hears you.

In the broken.

He. Hears. You.

Last night I lay with my sleepy Grace and held her hand. So small still, but her grip is strong. And I thought about how in the darkness I would plead for answers and grace, but I wouldn’t let go of my guilt and my fear…because somehow that was what I thought was holding me together…

Even though that is what was tearing me a part.

But what if I’d listened closer.

What if I let go.

What if I released that, and placed my grip on Him? And trusted that he was listening.

Because there is something powerful about knowing we are heard.

Your voice matters.

Your real matters.

Today I feel called to ask you to give your real to Him, to come to him in your broken, in your worry. I ask you to trust him with you burden.

He is listening.

And I pray we can all start listening to each other, and hearing. Really hearing.

Last night as I held Grace’s hand and listened to her breathing, she reached over and held onto me.

And I was overcome by how holy that moment was. The cadence of her inhale and exhale, and that absolute trust she places as she rests against me.

Dependent. Trusting. Knowing.

Because she just knows…if she needs me…I am there. Listening.

Look at him. Look to him.

He. Hears. Us.