Inwardly Digest

‘What number is it?’ she asked. ‘72.’ She continued rushing around packing things up, getting ready for a couple of days away. Sheepishly, she looked at me again. ‘74?’ ‘No, 72,’ I replied.

How often do I do that?

Someone gives me some information and I am only half-listening, and immediately forget.

I ask God for guidance and I might pause long enough to hear an answer, but it doesn’t really register. I continue rushing round doing things and then glance back at him, questioning, repeating a slight variation of the advice he’d just given me. Uncertain. Sheepish, to admit that actually, I wasn’t really listening.

What is the point of my asking the God of the universe for advice, and then not sitting with him long enough to really hear what he says?

None.

In my memory, I can hear my dear Dad, a lay reader in the Episcopal church for years, leading a prayer that encouraged us to ‘read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest Scripture’ (1662 Book of Common Prayer).

Inwardly digest. A lovely old medieval way of saying, meditate.

Today, another note to self. Don’t let the urgent push aside the important. Rest and listen. Really listen, and hear. Inwardly digest.