a mentor post, guest post

Leslie is amazing. 

She is one of the reasons that I started this blog. 

She is a wise, beautiful, incredible soul.

 I asked her to mentor me. 

I was beyond honored when she said yes. 

Then I asked her to also share a monthly mentor post with all of you, because she is phenomenal.

She is challenging me.

You're in for a treat!

Leslie's blog here.

*****

I’ve always wanted a mentor. Someone not in my family. Not a peer. A mentor. Someone a few steps ahead of myself, in womanhood, in marriage, in motherhood. And though I’ve prayed, I have yet to meet her.
Which is why I will quickly take an opportunity to be one for someone else, if a chance arises. What if a younger woman has prayed for me? And what about all those lessons the Lord has taught me in my life, all that pain and pruning I’ve been through? What about that?
What if all that wasn’t merely for my benefit?
And then there’s Casey. She and I have been knit of the same stuff, I’m certain, just in different decades. Casey has given me a beautiful chance to be a voice here, on her own blog, because maybe – just maybe – I’m a few steps ahead of some of you. I don’t have all the answers. I may have different perspectives than you do about some things. But I have undoubtedly learned some important lessons in my journey so far.
There are things I wish I’d known earlier. Burdens I wish had been lifted by someone who’d already survived my same struggles. Hope and inspiration I wish I had been given. Well, those are the things I want to offer. Encouragement is what it is. And as hard as life is, who doesn’t need some of that? I'm so thankful for Casey; she's given honor to my journey by letting me share bits of it with you.

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{Hi friends. I'm Leslie and I blog over at top of the page. Casey is my dear friend, and it's coming up on our one year anniversary of meeting in person and Casey asking me to be her mentor. I'm still so honored to be in her life, and every so often, I write Mentoring guest posts with all of you in mind. You are a group of much loved readers, by Casey and by me. Here's a bit of my story on how I learned to talk to God.}

MENTORING #5

Learning to Talk to God

I can remember my mother kneeling at my bedside at night leading

me in a prayer. It was simple, repeated nightly. Like a spoken song, we listed

the names of family members, in unison, asking God to bless them. There, I

began to learn to talk to God. I’d also learned when to turn to God. In crisis, in pain, in

confusion, I prayed. But now I realize I wasn’t really talking to Him. I was

talking AT Him.

All along, for years,

I talked at God.

Saying you are talking TO a person implies that there is a

conversation taking place. A two-way conversation. When my husband and I have

conflicts, sometimes he’ll say, “Don’t talk at me.” It’s when he’s stopped

conversing and needs to have a break from the issues at hand.  When I’m the only one talking, I’m talking AT him, not to him.

The bookstore has shelves full of books on how to talk to

God. Well, I really don’t think that’s our problem. We all know how to talk. The

real question is whether or not we know how to listen. For two decades, I

didn’t realize that He had His side of the conversation. And furthermore, that

He wanted me to tune in. Listening is indeed much more challenging. And much

less often taught in our churches and at our children’s bedsides.

In my younger years, because of the way I saw prayer modeled,

I had reduced praying to something that looked way more like wishing. When I

wished for something really hard, I called that praying. I talked at God and

told him how badly I wished He’d do this thing or that. I had my agenda,

whether it be good grades, healed relationship, problem-free vacations,

pregnancy, you name it. 

I treated God like a genie who would grant me my wishes if

he felt like it. The things I prayed for were certainly okay things to pray

for. It’s just that I wasn’t truly talking to God. I was pushing my agenda at

Him, hoping he’d be on board with it. I never took time to still my heart after

I talked at him. I never allowed silence into my prayer time, where I just shut

up and expected He cared enough about me to personally address the concerns of

my heart.

At the core of my prayer dysfunction, I think, was fear.

Fear and a lack of understanding of how much God actually loved me. Both

resulted in control. This was all very subtle, and has taken me years to

understand. But all of my talking at God was really me trying to control Him,

wasn’t it? It’s sort of funny to think I tried to control the God of the

universe, but that’s what my praying amounted to: nothing more than a thin

attempt at persuasion beneath a thick layer of religious language.

About five years ago, God showed me He wanted so much more

for our relationship.  In a very dark

time, He allowed all my prayers to fail. He said no to all of them. No amount

of praying made my situation any better, and after about a year, I was at the

end of myself. (By the way, at the end of yourself is precisely where all the good

stuff happens, I’ve learned.)

I ran out of things to say at God. He proved He could not be

controlled. He had an agenda, and I needed to get on board with HIS. Not the

other way around. But before I realized all this, I had nothing left in me but

silence, as I lay folded on my floor in despair, needing His nearness so badly.

It is right where He wanted me to be.

Finally, He probably thought, it’s MY turn to talk.

And He did.

Now, I can say we converse. I talk to God. He talks back.

Not audibly, but I’ve learned through practice how to hear his “voice” in my

spirit. Inside. While I learned this process, and when I find myself doubting,

I firmly hold onto John 10:27 where Jesus, using the metaphor of Him as our

Shepherd, states, “My sheep know my voice.”  I can confidently know that God has a voice,

and desires to speak to me. He has never once failed to meet me with guidance

and affirmation when I have provided room and silence in our time together to

listen.

Many times when I am going through something difficult, it’s

the first thing I do. I go to God not with words, but with silence. I literally

kneel on the floor and say in my heart, “Lord, I need you. Speak to me.” Then I

wait. I don’t presume to know what’s best for the situation or for myself, and

I don’t pummel Him with my many ideas. I let go of my agenda and choose trust.

To tell you the truth, my biggest impression over the past

few years of practicing this is not the actual help He’s given me. It’s the

love. It’s the personal, intimate, affirmation for who I am as His child that

has meant the most to me. It’s a surprise, really. I always want to get to the

issues and hear practical solutions. God always wants to start with Love.

Crazy, gracious words about my beauty and my worth. It’s so off the subject

when I want to hear about fixes to my problems. And yet, my problems look

altogether different once I’ve been reminded who I am, and whose I am. 

It’s like when the day is done and I finally get to snuggle up to my child in the

dark, when he or she is finally done wiggling and busying around, and I whisper

loving secrets in ears because I’m the mom. 
Because I delight in them.

God delights in you, do you know that?

He can’t wait for the part of the day when you quiet down and rest in His arms. He has so much to say, and they are words you know you need to hear. They are words no one else

can say to you. It just takes a little practice and a little silence to learn

to hear His voice. You can find room in your life.

In retrospect on that dark time, I’m so thankful God said No

to my plans over and over. In some ways, He still is. And it’s okay, because adversity

has a funny way of keeping my ears open. That season changed me. Now, when

trouble comes, there is no voice I’d rather hear, no comfort I need more, and

no peace sweeter than from the One who made me, knows me, and loves me most.