I'm Listening

I write and sometimes wonder who’s listening. Label it self-doubt if you want.

All writers want to be heard. Else, why do they write? Writing is meant to be a medium of communication. It is the author speaking, and someone listening.

In my case, it’s not ME I want people to hear. I could care less who likes or dislikes me, what they think of the path of my career, or if they label me a kook. I don’t write for “thumbs up” on social media, although a simple “thank you” is appreciated when it is given.

It’s not my heart I want people to see. Not mine at all.

Look past me, I beg you, and SEE HIM.

Minister Lance Wallnau described a moment like this in his life. God had given him a major revelation on the “Seven Mountains of Influence,” and he stood in what seemed like the perfect crowd to release it. Yet, there amongst all those major gospel speakers, his words became lost. He’s speaking the will of God given to Him in an incredible vision (you really should have heard the crazy story), but no one was listening.

I know that feeling.

A year ago, the Lord asked me to write two books, and I obeyed. He told me when and how to release them. I did that, too. But being honest, I’ve sold only a handful of copies. This isn’t about sales. I’m not hooked on money. God is my supplier.

But if only a handful of people bought one, then only a handful of people heard their message.

I am an echo in an empty room, begging the silence to listen, and the silence says nothing in return while outside the walls of the room people go about their busy lives with no time to stop and listen to the Spirit speaking.

I’m just as guilty, or I was. I spent so many years doing what I wanted to do, the way I wanted to do it, never standing still long enough to acknowledge there was a God, much less become friends with Him. He gave me the route to travel. He highlighted it on the map, but I chose to drive the way I wanted to go and ignore the voice speaking from the dash.

If you’ve ever used a Garmin-type device, you know what I mean. You argue with it, as if it will argue back, and ignore its instruction to “turn right in 300 feet.” You know better. It’d be quicker if you went another way.


There is only ONE WAY – His Way – all other routes will send you down the wrong path.

You won’t notice it at first. It seems like a small detour or even that easier route I mentioned. The weather’s just as nice as it was. You still have plenty of gas in your tank. But then, you pass a road sign that tells you you’ve been traveling west, and that’s not the direction you meant to go at all.

Maybe you don’t hear me, right now. Maybe you haven’t read this far. Maybe only three people, my dearest friends, will take the time to scroll to the bottom and say, “God bless you.” There’s no way, of course, for me to know if they did or if they thought about this or if they will put it into practice.

The knowing isn’t my job. It’s His, and that is my point.

I’ve had some incredible moments with the Father. Many I’m not free to release. He spoke them to me, and I will never forget it. Never. But I was listening in order to hear. I pressed in.

I never stop praying. I never stop seeking. I’ve eliminated anything that will fog my ears. I don’t watch TV, basically at all. I only listen to music that magnifies Him. I spend twenty-four hours every day in expectation of what He is about to say.


I count not what I have given up but trade it all for Christ. I trade it to be His vessel, so that this gift of writing He’s given me WOULD BE HEARD by some of you. I speak so that one person would have that moment of revelation where they KNOW God just said something, and it burns in them. They must tell it. [See Php 3:13]

This is the gospel message. “And he said unto them, GO YE INTO ALL THE WORLD, AND PREACH the gospel to every creature.” (Mk 16:15) Preaching implies communication. It is words spoken. Going is action. We go and we speak. But what we speak comes from what we hear, and we only hear because we are listening.

If faith comes by hearing, then we must be hearing in order to receive it. [See Rm 10:17] It will not come from midair nor while we’re sleeping. It requires our efforts to obtain it. And WHAT WE HEAR and WHO WE HEAR is our choice to make.

So you don’t like the way I write. It doesn’t matter to me. What does is that persistent echo, reverberating against empty walls, because the church is too consumed with the road noise to listen to the Still Small Voice.

He is speaking, but only a few hear it. Still fewer dare to obey.

I will be one of them.

Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay

Suzanne D. Williams, Author