Beside The Still Waters

  

This morning I am reading Words With God by Addison and Julianna Bevere, the chapter they call Opening the Conversation. I am impressed with it. It’s helping me understand more about the unceasing prayer Paul talks about in his letter to the Philippians.

 

I think, though, that my perception of “conscious” might be different than the authors’. I’m not sure if always being consciously aware of His presence is possible. My conscious mind can only hold one thing at a time, or at least less and less at a time as I get older! I am losing my ability to multi-task unless the tasks I’m doing have been trained, by habit, to happen automatically by my subconscious mind!

 

Maybe that’s the key to praying without ceasing? Over the years I have developed the habit of spending time with Jesus every morning. During that time I consciously acknowledge His constant, real and actual Presence with me. I ask Him to speak to me; I open my Bible; I read where I believe He will lead me and we talk about the words. When we’ve done that together, I commit the rest of my day to Him and trust that He will direct my path.

 

And then, after I’ve left that place beside the still waters, I focus on my external environment—the world around me—and trust that He will give me, moment by moment, the insight I need from the spiritual realm to walk in wisdom in that external world. I actually trust Him to place things from both realms into my conscious mind in each moment as they are relevant.

 

And he does that. He directs my attention to the slump of that student’s shoulders as he tries to understand the homework instructions; he allows me to notice the drooping of the false eyelashes of the girl in the blue dress in response to a comment by her friend.

 

So I do constantly sense His thoughts when I’m in the classroom, one at a time. He’s like the screensaver in the background of my mind. I don’t (can’t) always plan ahead, thoughtfully, everything I am going to say or do. I just move from one moment to the next and trust He is saying and doing through me.

These instincts have proven themselves to me many times. When I respond to the prompts with my actions (as well as my prayers for them), I see noticeable changes for the better in the teens I work with. The whole atmosphere in a classroom will change when I practice this way of awareness. It often feels like Jesus is sitting on the corner of my desk, watching over and blessing as He loves to do.

 

Maybe it’s a little like leaving my phone notifications turned on. I’m learning to do that now, because people are always scolding me for not noticing when they message me. I have resisted leaving them on up to now because they are a nuisance. I keep getting meaningless ‘tings’ from things I don’t like, like Snap Chat or Instagram—all those communication apps that I don’t understand how to use that I have somehow accidentally signed up for.

 

But I am realizing that it is useful to be notified about messages that are important to me, so I am starting to leave them on for What’s Ap, which is the most sensible communication option, in my humble opinion. (NB: if you are a friend of mine who wants me to know when you have something to say, that’s the message platform I will notice you on.)

 

So, continuing with this metaphor, I guess maybe I turn my spiritual notifications on in my mind in the morning in my QT. Then I am tuned in when He has something to say that I need to hear in the moment.

 

That is not opening the conversation, however. I think it is God who opens the conversation. I think He opened that conversation the day I was born (maybe even earlier?), before I became consciously aware of His presence in my life, and He has been communicating with me ever since. Whenever I stop and ask Him if he has anything to say to me in the moment, I always get an immediate response. It comes almost before I finish asking. He is always saying, “I love you.”

 

I think that message is going out from Him to everyone in the world today, constantly. It’s like he breathes it out with every ‘breath’ He takes. The summer breeze and the violent windstorm are metaphors for His loving voice. That message is constant, rhythmic, reliable for every one of the people He loved so much “that He gave His own Son, so that whoever believes in Him will not perish but will have everlasting life.”

 

And the enjoyment of that reality all begins, for us, beside the still waters.