Yesterday while I was babysitting at my local Bikram studio (I'm there a few times a week) my kids started getting a little restless. Adriel had been working on some math fact sheets for about half an hour, and Catie and a friend were beginning to lose interest in their coloring and bother and distract him instead. I suggested that we take a break and do some yoga together. After some deep breathing and a few challenging postures I decided to stop while we were ahead, had them lie down on their backs and close their eyes. "Can you tell me what you are hearing right now?" I asked them.
"I hear a car", Catie says.
"And I hear traffic, and a truck", says her friend.
"I hear God talking to me", Adriel said.
"Adriel", I reprimanded, "Do not just say something like that. That is not an appropriate joke. Always tell the truth."
He sat up, opened his eyes, and looked at me with hurt and confusion on his face. "Mom, I WAS telling the truth." Gulp. What do I say now?
"Oh...Oh. Well, what did He say?"
"He was telling me He loved me. I could feel it very quiet." ("QuietLY" I thought to myself, but decided not to be grammar police.)
"Hmmm. Ok; I sure wouldn't put it past God to tell you that." And I left it at that.
I continued to mull it over the rest of the day, not sure whether he was pulling my leg, or if he had pulled his own leg so to speak, or ... or... I've decided that I would rather have him learn to seek the Spirit and want to listen for God's voice and grow over time in his discernment, rather than be scoffed at by his own mother for "making stuff up" and discourage him from hearing the still, small, all-powerful voice. Still, I'm wondering....
