The first time I heard someone talk about the "still small voice" I was in a Baptist church in the heart of the Bible Belt. I wasn't sure how any of us were supposed to hear the still small voice beneath the booming speech of the evangelical minister. It took a long time to learn to block out the noise and hear the truth.
A few weeks ago I heard the voice urging me to write, more specifically, to write about a particular circumstance in my life. I dragged my feet and made excuses; I stayed conveniently busy. The voice persisted.
Yesterday I went to the coffee shop where I usually write, got a cup of tea, found a comfortable spot and got out my computer. When it refused to work properly I almost decided to go back home, forget the writing. But the voice persisted.
I took out a piece of paper and started writing long hand. Soon I was completely absorbed in my writing. I was writing and crying, completely unaware of the other shop patrons. As I wrote I could feel the healing effects of the process. I was glad I listened to that still small voice.
Sometimes I like to imagine that the still small voice is the voice of a great universal consciousness, a Divine Love. I like to imagine that it is guiding me toward my highest good, toward a place of healing and wholeness. Perhaps I am not imagining. Perhaps I am remembering.
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