Chapter three
Prayer: Listening
Many years ago I did a horrible job of selling vacuum
cleaners for a living.
But, as poorly as I started out, I managed to get
even worse.
I stuck with it and then, after a grueling three week
period of working daily without making a single sale, things suddenly turned
around and I began to sell.
In fact, I even got rather good at it.
So a friend of mine, who had hit a dry run himself,
asked if I would go with him and see what he was doing wrong.
Naturally, I agreed to help him.
After knocking on a few doors, we finally entered a house
and he began his presentation.
About half-way through his spiel the people told him
they would like to buy the vac.
He was so wrapped up in talking, though, that he
didn’t hear them.
He just kept right on talking and selling.
A few minutes later he asked them if they’d like to buy.
Again they said “yes.”
I watched, dumbfounded as, instead of whipping out a
sales invoice and writing up the order, he started
trying to sell them again.
Even though he was looking at them when they told
him yes, he never heard the word.
This went on for four or five more minutes when
again they asked him if they could buy it.
He didn’t hear again and kept on talking.
Embarrassed, I couldn’t take anymore, so I jumped in and
interrupted his pitch by asking if they would like to pay by cash or check.
Once we’d left and were in the car I told him how many
times they had try to stop him and buy the machine.
He couldn’t believe it.
Not once had he heard them say “yes.”
Later on I quit the vacuum company and went to work selling
insurance.
Like the vacuum company, every morning they had sales
meetings.
One of the things they stressed the most was “shut up and
listen.
You can’t know what your customer is telling you if you
don’t listen.”
It’s exactly the same with praying.
We don’t know what we’re being told if we don’t shut
up and listen. All of us have talked with people who hogged the conversation as
though they were the only one with anything important to say.
And that must be what they feel, or they’d be
interested in us.
That’s why when we talk, we also listen—if, for no
other reason than it’s just polite.
There’s a name for this two way intercourse: it’s
call conversation.
Prayer is nothing more nor less than conversation
with our unseen parent.
It’s like talking to a friend in the dark.
You can’t see ‘em, but you know they’re there.
Like rude bores, however, we tend to talk rather than
listen when we pray because we don’t think God's gonna answer us no how, no way.
Right?
Well, He does listen and He can help us.
So, we need to shut up and listen.
Say what we’ve got to say, then shut up and listen.
It can be amazing what we learn.
And it can also turn into real conversation where we
ask a question and we ‘hear’ an answer.
Interestingly, we never get any ‘advance’
information.
He’s not going to tell you who’s going to win the fifth
race at Hialeah. That’s because it takes unfair advantage of others.
God quietly responds to those who pray.
We rarely hear the response because there is so much
‘thought’ noise in our mind that it is hard to hear the still, quiet voice of
God.
God does not yell or shout at us.
(If he did, we’d probably disappear from the face of
the earth.)
He whispers softly, quietly and gently.
The loud, over-riding voice in our mind is the voice
of ego—not God’s—ours.
But under that loud, clamorous yammering din is a
still, tiny voice.
Quiet the mind and listen to that one, for that’s
the one to heed.
Once this ability gets developed a little, there may even
be times when God responds with answers and solutions to problems we haven’t
asked about; things we know nothing about¾as
with me and Farley.
. .
Farley[1]
was a “good ole boy” auctioneer with a reputation for being sort of a scoundrel.
I don’t think he was, though.
In fact, I think he was extremely honest, but you
have to listen to what he said, or you would miss his honesty.
Farley was about fifty-ish, liked a shot of liquor
from time to time, loved to fish with a passion and, even in this modern era,
has (on occasion) been known to ride his horse into town for a drink. (You don’t
get tickets that way.
I met
Farley when my wife and I bought six acres with a house, an “auction” barn, and
a retail store from him and his wife, Marge.[2]
We bought it with the
understanding that he and Marge would keep the store and the house for six
months, at which time they would then move out and we would take possession.
The reason they sold the place was because Farley
wanted to retire and travel around the country, fishing, and they needed that
time to close everything down and get ready.
Sylvia never liked the place.
The house was too run down and too close to the
highway.
I agreed with her about the house, but the nearness to the
highway was the very reason I wanted it.
With the store and barn located on the highway and
close to town, it was an excellent place for my cabinet shop.
I was excited about the business prospects.
I figured we could build another house further back
at a later date.
About five months after we had bought the property I was
meditating before going to work at the barn.
As was my habit, I ended each meditation by
‘listening.’ That morning I got an unusual ‘thought.’
“Ask Farley if he wants to have his property back.
His situation has changed and he would like to have
it back.”
At the time it happened, I knew with certainty Farley would
buy the property back.
I told Sylvia what had happened during meditation
and, with her approval, I was going to offer the property back to Farley and
Marge.
She approved and I did.
When I asked Farley and Marge if they would like to have it
back, they jumped at the offer so quickly it was almost startling.
“How much do you want for it?” asked Farley.
“A thousand more than I paid for it.
That’s how much I have wrapped up in improvements.”
“Done!” replied Farley.
“I’ll have an attorney draw up the papers.”
One of Farley’s children (who had been living with his
first wife) had unexpectedly come to live with him and he was no longer free to
hit the road in his motor home, fishing for the rest of his life.
Marge had never wanted to sell in the first place
because of her store and the stability that it provided.
Farley would be able to resume his auctions, which
he had held in the barn, and life would go on as usual.
At least for as long as his daughter was there.
A couple of months after we sold the property back to them,
Farley was diagnosed as having a severe case of lung cancer.
He was told to get his affairs in order and that he
probably had two months left.
He was also told that it had progressed too far for
treatment to do any good.
Farley had other ideas, however, and refused to lie down
and die. “Bull....!” he told me.
“I’m not going to die.
I’m going to beat this thing.”
And he did.
The last time I saw Farley was about six years
later.
I ran into him as he was on a mule going over the mountains
on a four day pack trip.
What would have happened to that ‘scoundrel’ if God hadn’t
known what was going on and taken steps to intervene?
During his ordeal he had a home that provided both a
place to live and an income through Marge’s store.
What would it have been like living in a tiny motor
home?
Yet they wouldn’t have had that home if God hadn’t
responded with a solution to a problem that wasn’t even known.
By the way, the girl who was responsible for them keeping
the property moved away shortly after they bought the property back, but before
his diagnosis.
Coincidence?
Who knows.
One of the hardest things for me to learn to do was to
listen for response to my prayers.
In all likelihood it was because I wasn’t really
expecting an answer.
If I asked a question I usually answered it myself.
Answers that I ‘felt’ sure is what God would say¾if
he answered, that is.
For me, learning to ‘hear’ was an evolving process that
took years.
First came vague ‘understandings’ that later evolved into
‘hearing.’ (In prayer I’ve never heard an audible voice.
I ‘hear’ thoughts.)
The first time I ‘heard’ was after some question
asked while I was meditating.
As I waxed eloquently in my own my own mind, I
became aware of a little thought-voice that appeared to be under my loudest
thought—it was like having two thoughts at the same time, one of which did not
seem to be my own.
Somehow it was just ‘different;’ a soft voice that
was hard to hear because of my own over-riding thoughts.
The only thing I could tell was that it was
disagreeing with the so-called ‘answer’ I had just given myself.
I don’t remember what the question was, now.
But I do remember that I was answering myself with
what I believed to be an accurate answer.
For the first time I really shut up and listened.
I asked, “What was that?” and I heard, “That’s not
quite right.”
From that time on I began listening for the soft, still
voice.
That was hard to develop, though, because my own thoughts
tended to overwhelm my mind.
But with practice I became fairly adept at calming
my thoughts long enough to hear.
This is something anyone can do if they want to, including
you.
The problem is, we all feel sort of silly¾especially
if we tell anybody.
Therefore, don’t tell anyone, just do it.
It’s the only way to know for sure if what I say is
right, or not.
Simply pray and then listen for the gentlest voice
imaginable.
It will always be there, for He always responds to us.
After all, he is our Father in Heaven.
The responses from God are many and varied, but there are
some things we can rely on: they will never urge us to harm, steal or lie.
Nor will they OK immorality and unethical behavior.
The end is never justified by the means.
Bombing of abortion clinics would never be approved
of by God, no matter how He views abortions.
No matter how the bomber thinks he is being guided
by ‘holy’ principles.
All prayers have a beneficial effect, even our most selfish
ones.
Every time we utter a prayer we grow a little closer to the
Divine.
And, even though all prayer gets an answer, they are not
always positive.
My mother’s prayer for my sister, Patty, was a
prayer that received a negative response:
Patty and I were raking leaves in the back yard of our home
in Virginia Beach, VA, circa 1948.
(I was about eight at the time, and Patty about
fifteen.)
She loved working in the yard, and as long as she was
working, I loved it, too, for as we raked she would always tell me stories of
the elves and fairies who lived in our woods under the leaves.
(Once in a while she would even see an elf or fairy
and say, “Look, there goes one now,” pointing to a place where I wasn’t looking.
They always scurried out of sight just as I whirled
around.)
She was such an excellent story teller.
This day, though, she suddenly said she had to go in
the house because she was feeling tired.
Since this wasn’t like her, Mom took her
temperature, which was high enough to justify a trip to the doctor’s.
That night Pat’s fever rose even higher, so Mom took her
back to the doctor, who diagnosed her with the flu, then prescribed some
medication and rest.
Mom seemed to know it was more than the flu, so the
next morning she took Patty to another doctor. Pat was now beginning to have a
hard time breathing.
This doctor also insisted it was nothing more
serious than a flu bug.
By that afternoon Patty was a lot worse, so Mom and Dad
carted her back to the doctor.
This time she was admitted into the hospital.
After Patty was admitted, Mom went to the hospital chapel
and started praying for Patty to get well.
She told me later that, as she was praying, “I
felt God tell me that I was not to
pray for Patty anymore.” She said she knew it was time for Patty to go.
“I’m
not supposed to pray for her,” is what she told my dad.
Patty died the next afternoon of polio.
It came on her very quickly and she died within
three days.
Mom’s praying is an example of a prayer not being granted,
yet still being acknowledged.
Mom had the ability to ‘hear’ through her feelings,
intuition and a small voice in her mind.
People often say they don’t know how to pray.
Understanding that God already knows what we need
even before we ask should make it easier.
We don’t even need words, let alone eloquent words.
There a no need to speak in formal King James
English, for it is not our words that find their way to the heart of God.
It is our intentions, motivations, aspirations and
desires.
These are the things that open our cosmic awareness and
bring us closer to God.
But we must
still ask in order to receive!
Prayers can be answered in any number of ways, including
through feelings, intuitions, people, books, and opportunities.
The way God responds to our prayers is usually
limited because we have hindered His response, albeit, unwittingly, by
unconscious utilization of our own freewill.
If we don’t want to hear His voice in our mind
because we think people who do are crazy, we unconsciously say, “NO!”
And because our will is supreme and inviolate, God
will not over ride what we want.
But, there is truly no limit to the way God can
answer our prayers, including direct revelation and divine intervention.
Therefore, we should not set limits on the way we
receive our answers as this just makes it harder for God to respond—and for us
to hear the reply.
(One way we block avenues of response is by looking
for answers in a specific way.
For example, some people like to open a Bible at
random.
Whatever page it opens to contains the answers they are
seeking. Very
limiting.
Even more so because the ‘answer’ is often open to very
broad interpretation.)
The prayers of American Indians, women, Buddhists, Hindus,
Moslems, blacks, whites, Mexicans, men, Catholics, South American natives, Jews
and Welshmen are all equal to the eyes, ears, heart and mind of God.
Nothing would bring peace on earth faster than for
us to learn that we are all God’s children and He loves us all equally.
Knowing nothing else about God, but grasping this
would be to understand one of the highest orders of universal truth.
Hearing is easier to do when in a quiet state of
meditation.
Entire books are written on meditation, and it is not
something I want to tackle here.
Especially since I am not an expert on that subject.
However, for those who have never meditated, I have
included a very simple form in the back of the book.
Just remember that
not everything in our mind is the
voice of God, including dreams.
There was a time when I believed dreams were omens from God
and that we should listen to them.
I know that many people believe whole-heartedly in
them, but I find them suspect—at least as far as coming from God is concerned…I
do believe they are from our unconscious mind. (One this website I do post a
recent dream I had. It just seemed important to do so.)
Anyway, the following tale (Chapter four) is one from my past when I believed my
dream was directing me to take action…