Recently I found myself engaged in a very meaningful dialogue with a student who had conducted his own experiment with the Lord. For four days of regular life on campus, he did not speak. He hoped to hear God better by minimizing distractions and quieting himself.

When asked his findings, he expressed a new awareness of God’s constant presence, a deepening desire and ability to hear his voice. He also had a profound realization of the cacophony and interferences that surround us all daily. We discussed how conditioned we are to living in what might be termed “melee.” He chose to not speak on the phone and reduced texting, e-mails, and the like. I saw in this young man Psalm 42: “As the deer pants for the water, so my soul longs after you.”

My own such journey led me to take sabbatical a few years ago in Spain and the United Kingdom. The focus involved various kinds of spiritual retreats. The years prior contained for me a quest to hear God more consistently and more intentionally. I felt challenged with the contemplative lives of the ancients, intrigued by Celtic Christianity, inspired by the first four centuries of Christianity. I wondered if their experiences would be possible today. Can we hear God in a busy world of multitasking? Can we discern His will amid our many activities?

“Be still and know that I am God.” Richard Rohr, in Everything Belongs, prints Psalm 46:10 in this manner:
Be still and know that I am God
Be still and know that I am
Be still and know
Be still
Be.

Students frequently ask me “how can I hear God?” and “how do I know God’s will for my life?” It requires stillness, quietness, listening to only one voice. Brain based research indicates the impossibility of truly concentrating on more than one thing at a time. Multitasking has emerged as some sort of heroic task in contemporary society deserving of an award. Accolades are given to those who can do a plethora of things at the same time including talking to God and people. But how does it feel to be talking to someone who answers their cell phone or begins texting during the conversation? It rudely places the incoming call as more important than the person present. Do we treat God the same way?

A friend expressed frustration due to the busyness of life. She pronounced that we need to find a way to “fit in” time with God. That grabbed my heart. I thought of the graphic example of putting sand and stones in a jar. If the priority items go in first (represented by the stones) other things (which sand represents) will sift in easily. But if the sand goes in first (symbolic of life’s lesser concerns) the stones will never fit. I suggested, “Perhaps it’s like tithing. We give the first fruits of our finances to the Lord before paying the bills, then there’s enough money to meet necessities. If we give him our time first, he helps arrange the rest of life.”

Multitasking may produce results but the cacophony it renders drowns out the still, small voice of God. “Be still and know….”
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Marla Campbell is an associate professor of intercultural studies.