I’m Here, I’m Listening
Spoken word poet Amena Brown responds to the question, “How do you know when you’re hearing from God?”
She said, “How do you know when you are hearing from God?”
I didn’t know how to explain …
My words never felt so small, so useless, so incapable
I wanted to say
Put your hand in the middle of your chest
Feel the rhythm there
I wanted to say you will find the holy text in so many places
On crinkly pages of scripture
In dusty hymnals
In the creases of a grandmother’s smile
God’s ears are here for the babies
For the immigrant, for the refugee
For the depressed, for the lonely
For the dreamers
The widow, the orphan
The oppressed and the helpless
Those about to make a mess or caught in the middle of cleaning one up
Dirt don’t scare God’s ears
God is a gardener
God knows things can’t grow without sun, rain, and soil …
I want to tell her God is always waiting
Lingering after the doors close
And the phone doesn’t ring
And we are finally alone
God is always saying
I love you
I am here
Don’t go, stay
Please
I try to explain how God is pleading with us
To trust
To love
To listen
That God’s voice is melody and bass lines and whisper and thunder and grace
Sometimes when I pray, I think of her
How the voice of God was lingering in her very question
How so many of us just like her
Just like me
Just like you
Are still searching
Still questioning, still doubting
I know I don’t have all the answers
I know I never will
That sometimes the best thing we can do is put our hands in the middle of our chest
Feel the rhythm there
Turn down the noise in our minds, in our lives
And whisper,
God
Whatever you want to say
I’m here
I’m listening
Amena Brown, “She said, ‘How do you know when you are hearing from God?’,” in A Rhythm of Prayer: A Collection of Meditations for Renewal, ed. Sarah Bessey (New York: Convergent Books, 2020), 7, 8, 9, 10–11. Used with permission of author.