Listening

God speaks.

I am on a retreat. It is a working retreat and one of our assignments was to read Richard Foster’s book Prayer: Finding the Heart’s True Home.

I love the first chapter, Foster’s descriptors:

We do not need to be shy. He invites us into the living room of his heart, where we can put on old slippers and share freely. He invites us into the kitchen of his friendship, where chatter and batter mix in good fun. He invites us into the dining room of his strength, where we can feast to our heart’s delight. He invites us into the study of his wisdom, where we can learn and grow and stretch . . . and ask all the questions we want. He invites us into the workshop of his creativity, where we can be co-laborers with him, working together to determine the outcomes of events. He invites us into the bedroom of his rest, where new peace is found and where we can be naked and vulnerable and free. It is also the place of deepest intimacy where we know and are known to the fullest.

Yes, God speaks. And he invites me to do the same.

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