Olympic Training for Listening?

The Bible is such an interesting book. No matter how many times I read it, there will always be something new waiting to jump off the page. The Spirit draws my attention, or I suddenly feel the distance between my mindset and what I am reading.

This happened to me the other day as I was reading Hebrews chapter five. At the end of the chapter we find a description of those who are mature and immature. The recipients of the letter are mildly rebuked for being immature and not being able to understand. It seems a bit harsh to reprimand them in this way. Why would God rebuke someone for failing to understand?

In the final verse of the chapter, we find the reason for the rebuke. We read that the mature have become so through practicing. They have learned to discern by exercising their senses. The word used for exercise is an active word. It carries the sense of training for the Olympic Games.
 
They are rebuked not because they don't understand but because they had failed to train themselves. Their lack of discernment, their immaturity was a result of their choice. They chose not to train like an athlete preparing for the Olympics, and therefore lacked discernment. They had not learned to listen.

More times than I care to remember, I have griped about the silence of God. Why doesn't God tell me this or that? I wonder how many times I have not discerned God's voice because I have not seriously trained. Like athletes with various levels of natural skill, discernment may come easier for some, but we can all grow in it through intentional training.

I do not mean to say that God will always answer. There are times of silence, even in the most intimate relationships. But, I wonder if we don't often mistake our inability to listen with His unwillingness to speak.

Wandering

As I was out walking today, my dog kept wandering off the path. That wouldn't normally be a problem, but we were walking alongside a freshly planted field. The crop was just sprouting. I want to be a blessing to our community, and damaging a farmer's crop wouldn't be a blessing.

So, I called the dog. She quickly turned around, came out of the field, and returned to me. I praised her and patted her for returning to me so quickly. Then I pointed toward the path ahead and released her to run. She went about ten feet down the path and then veered into the crop again. I called her and she turned and cocked her head as if to say, "Now, what's the problem!?"

As she returned to me, I fought back frustration. I gave her a treat and again pointed down the path. She ran off, and after fifteen feet or so was headed back into the field. That's when it occurred to me that she couldn't tell the difference between the muddy path and the muddy field.

There are times when she intentionally does the opposite of what I want her to do. I have written about that before. This was different. It wasn't rebellion. She wanted to please me. She just didn't understand when she was on the path, and when she was not. She lacked discernment.

Then it hit me. How many times do I simply wander off the path. I am walking with God. I am enjoying the walk. I am enjoying the freedom that He gives me. We're having a ball together. When, unbeknownst to me, I start trampling on something. I have wandered off the path without intending to. I think the key is being in tune enough to hear his voice and get back on track in those moments.

How many times each day do I get distracted? How many times do I start chasing down some piece of trivia on the internet? How many times do I let my thoughts wander? It's not intentional disobedience, it may not be inherently wrong, but I start to wander. I can't necessarily tell when I'm starting to drift off track, but I suddenly find myself standing in the middle of a field with only a ague recollection of how I got there.

I don't think that this means that I need to worry about wandering. God has given us tremendous freedom to explore and enjoy the world. I don't feel like I need to second guess every step I take. Rather, I need to tune my heart to His voice. I need to learn to listen for Him as I run and play in the world He has created. If I learn to hear discern His voice, I have more freedom, not less! I can run and play in the fields knowing that He is close and that He will call me if I'm wandering.

The key is the relationship. The key is learning to hearken to His voice.