When I was a child I used to talk like a child, think like a child, reason like a child. When I became a man I put childish ways aside.
1 Corinthians 13:11-12
When I was a kid we used to play a card game called I doubt it. The object of the game was to get three of a kind before the other players did and win. The dealer dealt each person three cards. One-by-one the players asked each other for a specific card hoping to match the ones they held in their hand. If you told them you didn’t have the card they were asking for, they could challenge you by saying, I doubt it. If you had the card, you had to give it to them. If you didn’t, they had to draw another card from the deck.
As I grow older I find I play the I doubt it game far too often with myself. I doubt whether I am on the right path. I doubt whether I am a good person. I doubt whether the choices I have made in my life were the right ones or not. Sometimes I even doubt the dang shirt and tie I chose to wear to the office that day.
This incessant doubting leads to a type of mental suffering within my psyche, a ceaseless debate about whether I am a good witch or a bad witch like the good witch of the west asked Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz.
Yesterday as I was at the beach, I did a simple cleansing ritual I often do when I am trying to shake off the angst of the past workweek. I bent down, cupped a small amount of lake water in my hand. Then I blessed myself three times, touching my face, my throat and the back of my neck.
But yesterday I felt a nudge to also bless my ears. And as I lifted my hands to my ears I covered them for a short minute. In the silence I heard these powerful yet quiet words echo within me: Listen only to my voice. Do not doubt me. Trust.
I wasn’t sure if these words came from my imagination or from God, and to be honest it really doesn’t matter, because these words spoke deeply from my soul as an invitation. An invitation to stop playing the I doubt it game with myself. To trust myself and the inner voice of God I sometimes hear.
Perhaps these words, this experience are an invitation to transformation. To stop listening to my false self which nags at me, bites at my heel, and punches my brain with words of uncertainty and confusion; the invitation to continue listening to my true self, the voice of love and wisdom, which unfolds life with grace and simple beauty.
Trust. Love. Listening. These are the words of nourishment my soul needed to hear that day. I am grateful they rang out from within the clamor of my life.
Game Plan: Take some time to listen today. Enter the quiet. What do you hear rise up above the clamor? Do you hear the whisper of the Holy Spirit? What words or images does it speak from deep within your soul? Trust it. Trust your soul.