My days are filled with sound.  The sound of birds chirping, as melodic as they are, starts far too early in the morning these days, rousing my three children under seven from their sleep.  The sound of their footfalls on the stairs as they try to sneak out of their rooms before their toddler clocks flash green disturbs my morning quiet date with my Bible and hot coffee.  The sound of my name, no not Adrienne, that other name, Mommy, plays on repeat all day.  The serious sound of my husband’s voice on conference calls makes me grateful for his dedication and provision, while the sound of his silliness with our children makes me proud that he’s my partner in this parenting adventure.  Then there’s the hum of the washing machine, the clicking of water through pipes, the chiming of my Apple Watch reminding me that it’s time to breathe, traffic, other people’s conversations at the supermarket—it goes on and on.

What I don’t realize about all these sounds, sometimes until it’s too late, is that they draw my attention to the immediate and pull it away from the eternal.  Before long I’m starting to focus on the tasks that are directly under my control, simple goals that I can meet on my own that don’t seem to be a big deal.  However, there are so many days when I step back and look at the hill of small things in front of me that I’ve built single-handedly by listening to my own voice saying, “you can do this.”  At times, I become overwhelmed and frustrated because I’ve piled too many things atop one another and it’s very difficult to see the priorities, to sort through pile without it toppling over at my feet.

It’s in these moments that I must fall on my knees before this mountain of minutiae and surrender it.  I must acknowledge that I allowed the noise of my life to drown out the One voice that wants to direct me, to guide me, to fill me with peace and joy and empathy.  I must confess that all the noise has trained my ears to listen to a selfish voice instead of one that would speak love into and through me.

The word resonate means to produce or be filled with a deep, reverberating sound.  This speaks to me of my deep desire be filled of the Holy Spirit—to know His voice so well that it shouts louder than any other sound in my environment, as precious as those sounds may be.  I want THAT voice to reverberate in my mind so that I can accept or release challenges and tasks with confidence.  I want that filling to consume me so that I don’t listen to lies that tend to produce guilt because I should be doing this or that.  I want no distractions from what God’s voice is calling me to.

Jesus spoke of the Holy Spirit in John 14, calling Him Counselor and the Spirit of Truth.  Lies confuse us, they shackle us to expectations and standards that we were never designed to meet.  They create division.  Jesus said the truth would set us free.  So then as our Counselor, the voice of the Holy Spirit can fill us with truth and confidence in our mission as women called to love and represent Jesus in our communities and homes, not in a forced and tired way, but in a joyful and empowered way.

So, my prayer is, help me hear You, Lord.  Resonate amidst my busy noise.  Help me to recognize Your tones, Your words, Your truth.  From the eager sound of chirping birds to the rhythmic sound of my husband’s snoring at night, call me back to your side so that I can be restored and reminded of Your good plans for me.  Let my head be filled Your deep, reverberating sound.