ArtsAutosBooksBusinessEducationEntertainmentFamilyFashionFoodGamesGenderHealthHolidaysHomeHubPagesPersonal FinancePetsPoliticsReligionSportsTechnologyTravel

And So I Began To Listen...................3

Updated on April 7, 2016

My whole experience of discerning the voice of the Holy Spirit began one morning, some time in March 1997 and went on for a period of two weeks. As you read this, please consider that, this hub is the third of a four part series that you have to complete reading in order to get the full benefit of the experiences.

To understand the lesson, I have to give you a snap shot of my life at the time. One afternoon in between shifts, I dashed home, which was literally a 5-minute brisk walk from my block of flats, and went about trying to accomplish a million things in the two-hour break. To time manage, I put a big pot of rice to cook on the hub so when the children returned from school at 3.45pm, they would have a hot meal waiting for them. As the rice cooked, I unloaded the washing machine and hung the clothes out. I proceeded to load it for the evening economy wash. Then I made an accompaniment for the rice and a salad for dinner, cleaned the kitchen floor before settling down to a cup of tea. Simultaneously, I listened to the daily news on the television in the background. Talk about multitasking. A woman’s work is never done. In about an hour and a half, I was seated, sipping the well-earned tea as I watched a detective series on TV.

By the time the program was over, the rice, which by now was on a low fire, would be cooked and ready for the children returning, shortly. They were all teenagers with voracious appetites. They would return at 3.45pm and stay in, as they had to be in when I phoned to talk to all of them, which could be at any time. This was a strategy to keep them at home. When I returned later, a little after 6pm, they would have all the dishes (used for lunch), washed and put away and should have listened to the children’s news on Blue Peter which they would be recounting to me- another strategy to keep them busy.

After the TV program, I dashed down the six flights of stairs to the bus stop, to begin the brisk walk to work. Then I heard a voice say, ‘Go back upstairs!’ By this time, because I had waited to see the who-dun-it, and had cut it too close, I was running desperately late. It was three on the dot and I needed to have set up the seven play areas for the kindergarten children by half past.

I exclaimed that if it was because of a phone call (I usually received phone calls from abroad around lunch and dinnertime) the caller could always leave a message or call back later. The way I saw it, I did not want my manager (who was grumpy enough with mood swings) to be on my case because I was late for no good reason. There did not seem to be any point for me to rush back home- up six flights of stairs. Whatever it was would have to wait to six pm. So, off I went to work.

At three thirty, just as I had finished setting up all the activities for the children, they raced out of their sleeping area, full of beans, to the various tables to begin the half hour session. I do not know what it was but I suddenly remembered that I had not put out the fire on the hub. This was a full thirty minutes after I’d left home. Oh no! I quickly told the manager and ran out to the road, faster than Carl Lewis with my heels hitting the back of my head. I did not care that I was getting funny looks as I ran like a thief. I was even sure that I could hear the fire engines roaring down the road. My heart was in my mouth. My chest was beating. I knew I had broken a record -running- even if it was mine. I rushed up the stairs because I thought the lift would be too slow. I’d never done the stairs in that time, even when I needed to use the toilet. I was praying fervently as I ran, begging the angels not to let the flat burn to the ground. I’d had a fire quenched in the kitchen before and remembered how fast it had grown.

I got to the landing-not a soul in sight. I breathed in to discern smoke-nothing. I carefully opened the front door- no smoke. Still apprehensive and thinking I might have shut the kitchen door, which is a fire door, I raced down the stairs to the kitchen and found the door open, the cooker was still on and thirty minutes after I thought I had turned it off, all I could hear was the cackling sound of rice drying out.

I sat down to catch my breath. This was not funny anymore. I needed to heed the warnings even if not at first apparent to me. I needed to understand that I could not always rely on my limited knowledge and again I had to respect the benevolence and wisdom of the Holy Spirit. How many times did I need to be taught a lesson before I learnt it? (See my other hub And So I Started Listening..1 See The Sweetener Experience and And So I Started Listening.. 2 The Drinking Glass Experience)

How long did I want to stay in the Holy Spirit’s remedial class before I got it? Was I not now there in the flat in spite of my earlier protest that I was needed at work? How hard would it have been to sprint back up the stairs to put the cooker out, using the exercise as a workout instead of complaining? Did I need to have a disaster before I learnt to listen? I made a solemn promise there and then (where have I heard that before? I hear the Holy Spirit saying) that I would heed the words, advice and messages and from then on, I would, undoubtedly, trust and obey. Enough was enough!


    0 of 8192 characters used
    Post Comment

    • ThussaysNanaMarie profile image

      ThussaysNanaMarie 5 years ago from In my oyster

      My sentiments exactly. Thank you so much. You give me the drive to go on. Thank you so much for reading the hub.

    • glmclendon profile image

      glmclendon 5 years ago

      Good, good, good. We would stay out of a lot of trouble, if only we would listen to that small voice of the Master. He knows the whole story and we are His children. He loves us and wants the best for us.

      Stay Well