Why Aren’t We Listening?
Learning to Hear the Whisper Again
“And I said, ‘This is my fate; the Most High has turned his hand against me.’
But then I recall all you have done, O Lord;
I remember your wonderful deeds of long ago.”
— Psalm 77:10–11 NLT
My daughter does something that used to irk me.
My four-year-old, for some reason, loves coming up to my ear and whispering secrets. And often—those secrets are meant to make me laugh. I used to dislike it. I’ve never been a fan of secrets.
But after some time with God this morning, I think I’ve had a change of heart.
The Age of Noise
We live in an age of constant, addictive, and subscribed noise.
And one of the most common questions I hear from believers is:
“Why can’t I hear God?”
Or, “Why does He feel so far?”
But maybe the better question is:
Why aren’t we listening?
The War Between Flesh and Spirit
Psalm 77 gives us a front-row seat to a battle between the flesh and the soul.
The psalmist is in a dark season. He’s convinced God has turned away.
His flesh screams, “My life is over.” Sound like many of us?
But then—like a lightning bolt cutting through an ominous sky—comes the pivot:
“But then I recall…”
This is no ordinary mental shift. This is a Holy Spirit moment.
The battle is between feeling and faith. Between depression and remembrance.
The psalmist doesn’t get a miracle—he gets a memories.
Jesus said the Spirit would bring to our remembrance all He has spoken (John 14:26). That’s exactly what happens here. A whisper surfaces in the chaos:
“Remember who God is. Remember what He has done.”
The God Who Whispers
That whisper? We’ve seen it before.
Elijah, exhausted and afraid, flees for his life. He hides in a cave, ready to die. But God tells him to stand on the mountain.
A windstorm tears through—but God isn’t in the wind.
An earthquake shakes the ground—but God isn’t in the quake.
Then fire ferociously blazes past—but God isn’t there either.
And finally:
“a still small voice.” — 1 Kings 19:12 (NKJV)
God didn’t yell. He didn’t cue the Chicago Bulls warm-up music.
He whispered.
Because whispers can only be heard up close—intimately close.
That’s what my four-year-old showed me. She comes close—right up into my personal space—because she wants to be near her father. She wants to share joy, love, and an intimate moment. Her whisper isn’t just about the words; it’s about a relationship unlike any on earth.
That is the invitation we have with the King of Kings. Many of us carry past demons creating unquenchable pain, silence in our souls.
Pain: The Megaphone and the Mirror
C.S. Lewis wrote:
“God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world.”
— The Problem of Pain
Sometimes pain is the megaphone. It gets our attention.
But the whisper—that’s the invitation.
Pain wakes us up.
But presence draws us in.
And just like my daughters feel safe in the presence of their mom and dad, we—God’s children—find peace in the presence of our Father.
So... Why Aren’t We Listening?
We’re not listening because:
We’re afraid of what God might say.
We’re angry that He hasn’t said what we hoped.
We’re addicted to the noise.
We’ve confused volume with value—thinking God must sound like a podcast or sermon to be real.
Or… we just don’t like silence, because it exposes us.
But maybe the whisper hasn’t gone anywhere.
Maybe we’ve just forgotten how to be still.
The Good News? He Still Speaks.
Even when Elijah ran...
Even when the psalmist spiraled...
Even when we forget, avoid, give up, or drown in distraction—
God comes close.
He doesn’t shame you for the silence.
He speaks into it.
And His whisper still says:
“I’m still here.”
“I’ve been faithful before. I’ll be faithful again.”
“I know you’re tired. Let Me remind you who I am.”
The Never Finished Challenge: Return to the Whisper
This week, try one of the following or all of them:
Unplug for 30 minutes a day — no music, no phone, just you and God.
Read Psalm 77 slowly — write out what you want to remember about God. If you can’t remember anything in your life, unclog your soul by writing what you read in scripture.
Ask the Holy Spirit to remind you of a time God came through. Journal it. Date it. Make remembrance a daily habit. It will create a perspective shift on how you can focus.
Memorize 1 Kings 19:12 — “And after the fire came a gentle whisper.”
Stop Searching for the Storm
God may have shouted to get your attention.
But He whispers to draw you near.
So pause.
Breathe.
And listen.
The whisper still speaks.
What Does Today Say About God?
Sound.
I have tinnitus in my ears—constant ringing from mortar fire and other combat damage. If I focus on it too much, I get anxious. It’s an irritating sound, and when I lock in on it, it feels like poison to my soul.
Tinnitus is a lot like the noise of the world.
If I fixate on the wrong sounds, my spirit starts to suffer.
But there’s another sound. A sound that feeds me.
A ding that goes deeper than lightning splitting a giant oak.
A chime that pulls me like a child watching a storm roll across a field.
A blast like a bomb—but holy, reverent—demanding all my attention.
That sound?
His.
In His Word.
In nature.
Through His people.
Through His Spirit.
It is the most beautiful sound on earth.
And my soul longs to hear it more every day.
Thank You, Lord, for speaking.
What a Father.
What a King.
What a Friend.
Thank You, Jesus.
Just read through your post, James— really enjoyed the direction you took with it. The way you layered the thoughts gave it space to breathe. Didn’t feel over-crammed or heavy, just well-paced and clear. Appreciate the structure and the message.