Watch, Wait, Listen

By Doug Floyd

Everyone is busy. I think we serve the god who is running late. We live in a blur of
work, school, family, church, and chores. There is no time for silence. No time for
waiting. No time for pause.

Into the midst of our hurried lives, we are blind and deaf to anything, anyone who
might cause us to slow down.

Christmas appears as an event with one more set of activities requiring more time,
more money. Instead of renewing us, it exhausts all our resources.

Advent is an invitation from our forefathers to stop this rushing. To pause. To wait
upon the Lord.

But most of us are simply too busy too pause, too wait, too watch or too even read
this meditation. Skim a few lines and then delete. We must hurry on to the next
email, the next conversation, the next project, the next appointment.

If you’re worn out from a life absent of rhythm, this email comes as an echo from
the silent generations to take a moment to wait, listen, watch. You might learn to
hear again. You might begin to see again.

“…be like men who are waiting for their master to come home from the wedding
feast, so that they may open the door to him at once when he comes and knocks.
Blessed are those servants whom the master finds awake when he comes. Truly, I
say to you, he will dress himself for service and have them recline at table, and he
will come and serve them.” (Luke 12:36-37)

Sometimes when we cannot wait, God gives us the gift of waiting. Thrown into prison
for his faith, Richard Wurmbrand discovered this unwanted treasure. He writes,

“I am sorry that I was never a good Christian teacher. I had not yet had my time in
Arabia. Now I live in complete silence, absolutely alone. The guards have felt-soled
shoes. I don’t hear their approach. They give me food without saying a word. Inner
voices have also ceased. For long periods not even God speaks to me.”

In the dread silence, Wurmbrand learns to hear the Word of God.

Exiled on the island of Patmos, John knew this kind of silent waiting. Stripped of his
active ministry, John sits imprisoned, cut-off from the churches he loves. He endures
the tribulation of isolation, awaiting the kingdom of God. As he waits in the
loneliness, in the quiet, in the absence, he worships.

On one Lord’s Day, a deafening trumpet blast pierces the silence as the Word of God
Speaks. John turns to behold the Voice of the Roaring Waters, and he sees Jesus,
the Living Word. Jesus, the One who was dead and is now alive. Jesus, the faithful
witness. Jesus, the Son of God. He beholds His dazzling white hair, His fiery eyes,
His bronze feet. He beholds the Terror of the Lord shining out like the sun in the
midst of the cosmos. He beholds, and falls down like a dead man.
The Word of God is dangerous.

In the terror of His unveiling, the Word of God tells John, “Don’t Fear.” John beholds
the Voice Who Is, Who Was, and Who Is Coming Ever So Quickly. The Word is
Speaking before John’s first thought. He is speaking after John’s last living thought.
He is Speaking.

In the midst of John’s deep silences, He is Speaking.

The Word made Flesh Is Speaking. During Advent, we are reminded to listen. To
watch. To wait. The Word of God is Speaking. In His Voice, we discover that we exist
because He Summoned Us.

I exist because the Word of God called me into being. My life is a but a response to
the One Who Is, Who Was, and Who is Coming Ever So Quickly.

I may choose to live in blind ignorance of this Voice. I may choose to live blind and
deaf to His Presence, but He still sustains me with breath to curse and deny him. And
He can summon me to His throne at any point.

The Word of God breaks into our world like a trumpet blast, like a rush of waters,
like a burning fire. Our words dry and decay, crumbling into dust. Our words wound
and worry and war. His Word Creates and Destroy, Exalts and Humiliates.

During Advent, we might actually wait, listen and watch for His Word. Instead of
simply reading the Bible as a dusty book written centuries ago, we might listen for
the dread Voice of Him Who Speaks.

As we hear His Resounding Voice, our deaf ears are healed. I mean really healed. We
may actually begin to listen to Him and to the people in front of us. Everything,
everyone I thought I knew suddenly becomes new.

A moment ago the person in front of me was my wife of 21 years, talking about the
events of her day. A moment later, I am listening to an amazing, mysterious,
wondrous person created in the image of God. I am listening and being changed in
the encounter.

Don’t assume because you’ve known a person for most of your life that you know
them. Listen, they might just surprise you. Don’t assume because you’ve read the
Bible for most of your life that you actually know it. Listen, He might just surprise
you.

During Advent, we wait yet again for the One Who Is, Who Was, and Who Is Coming
Ever So Quickly. During Advent, we are learning to stop our busy bodies and busy
minds. We are learning to pause, wait, watch and listen.

During Advent, we trust the Father to heal us through His Living Word by the power
of His Spirit, so that we can actually hear again. In hearing Him, we behold Him. We
love Him. And in hearing each other. We may learn to behold each other. We may
learn to love each other.