There is something about the sound of leaves rustling in this season of the year—do you not agree? It is not the same sound wind makes when it blows through during winter when there are no leaves, spring when the leaves are nimble and small, or in the summer when they are full-grown. There is something different in the fall—have you listened lately?

      Listening is hard—the world is full of distractions (when is the last time you looked at your cell phone?) and full of sounds (is your television on? radio?). We hear many things on any given day, but how do we listen for the voice of God? One way is to make the space and time for that to happen. Samuel did that.

      1 Samuel was probably written by an unnamed author between 1100 and 1000 bce. Most of its thirty-one chapters are about Israel’s twelve tribes uniting under one king. How did that come about? Well, it happened because Samuel listened.

      The whole of the story is found from 1 Samuel chapters 1–3. The short version is this—Samuel’s mother, Hannah, prayed that she might conceive a son with her husband, Elkanah. When her prayer was answered, she named her boy Samuel, saying, “Because I asked the Lord for him.” Samuel sounds much like the Hebrew word for “heard of God.” There is a lot of listening going on here. She was so grateful for her son that she dedicated him to the Lord and service in the temple of the Lord under the mentorship of the priest Eli.

      One night as Samuel lay down to sleep, he heard a voice calling his name. He ran to Eli and said, “Here I am . . . you called me.” Eli responded, “I did not! Go lie back down.” This happened twice more before Eli sensed what was happening. “Go lie down, and if you hear this again, say ‘Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.’” Well, the rest is history—literally. God called Samuel to an incredible task and his life was changed forever, as was the nation of Israel. Here was the birthplace of the new way God’s kingdom was going to run. It was not just a moment, but an invitation to enter a partnership with God to lead the Hebrew people. Samuel would not have known if he did not first hear God, and then, even more, invited God to speak because he was ready to listen. And, of course, Samuel would have to rely on that hearing and listening the rest of his life, as he anointed Saul to be king, and later, anointed the greatest king in Israel’s history—David.

      To be quiet, to listen, to be still—it is so hard. Recall the words of Psalm 46:10, “Be still, and know that I am God!” There are a number of reasons why we should be still and listen. The first reason we are called to be still, in part, is to remind us that we are “not God.” A second reason we are called to be still is to connect to God. A third reason to be still is to become the people God calls us to be. That is precisely what happened when Samuel got still, was quiet, and listened to the voice of God.

      The sound of leaves in the fall is unlike their sound any other time of year. The sound of God’s voice—in the still, small, quiet moments—is unlike any word our busy, full, loud, distracting world may offer us.

      Perhaps make just a little extra time today. Turn off all the sounds of this world—go outside—listen. Before you do, pray, “Speak Lord, for your servant is listening.” God knows what you may hear.

       A New Leaf

      Spend a moment or two and do an inventory of your day-to-day life. How much time do you spend listening for the voice of God? Is there one thing—just one—you could cut from your own schedule that might make more space for God’s voice?

       A Prayer

      Ah Lord, unto whom all hearts are open, You can govern the vessel of my soul far better than I can. Arise, O Lord, and command the stormy wind and the troubled sea of my heart to be still, and at peace in You, so that I may look up to You undisturbed, and abide in union with You, my Lord. Let me not be carried here and there by wandering thoughts; but, forgetting all else, let me see and hear You. Renew my spirit; kindle in me Your light, that it may shine within me, and my heart may burn in love and adoration towards You. Let Your Holy Spirit dwell in me continually, and make me Your temple and sanctuary, and fill me with divine love and light and life, with devout and heavenly thoughts, with comfort and strength, with joy and peace. Amen.

      —Johann Arndt, d. 1621

Meditation 11

       Giants Don’t Have the Last Word

      But David said to the Philistine, “You come to me with sword and spear and javelin; but I come to you in the name of the Lord of hosts . . . .”

      —1 Samuel 17:45

      New beginnings are great—always a chance for a fresh start. But sometimes new beginnings are weighty. When fall comes, for many the lightness of summer gives way to the enormity of what follows. The year-end numbers are closer than they were back in January. We cram not one, but several holidays into the months ahead, the home may need to be readied for cooler temperatures, and so on. For a good bit of my adult life, I was a parent of children who were off to school as summer ended. There was always a good bit of stress and strain around that—even more so when they left home for college. For some of us it may just be overwhelming, beyond our capacity to defeat the giant tasks before us.

      There is no better story in the Bible about defeating giants than the well-known combat between David and Goliath. You know the story. The Philistines and Israelites were at battle, but the Philistines’ best tactic was not warfare, it was fear. They sent out Goliath of Gad, who was, by all accounts, about nine feet tall—think Yao Ming on steroids. For forty days (which is the Bible’s way of saying “a long time”), like the bully on the playground, Goliath would come out and taunt not only the Israelites, but also their God.

      But Goliath was a giant, and his stature alone was the source of the Israelites’ reluctance to take him on. In stepped David . . . young David, from field of sheep to field of battle. He refused armor, and armed with only a slingshot and five stones, he stepped out to the disdainful sarcasm of the giant.