about journaling The Lord God has given me his words of wisdom so that I may know what I should say to all these weary ones. Morning by morning he wakens me and opens my understanding to his will. The Lord God has spoken to me and I have listened. Isaiah 50:4-5 (TLB)
he Christian life is simple. It comes down to two things: being attentive and responsive to Christ. That’s it. Being attentive is the ability to recognize Jesus’ invitations and designs for our lives. Being responsive is choosing what Jesus is inviting us to be and to do. It’s simple. But not easy. Our inner lives are so full of the “static interference” of busyness and anxiety that the voice of God is difficult to discern—it is just one among many. Journaling is not a technique used to produce an experience; it is simply one way to pay attention to what God is already doing in our lives.
Learning to be present to the moment
Journal comes from the French word jour, or “day.” To journal means to be daily . . . to be present to our experiences. It is the habit and practice of “staying a while” in God’s presence. It takes patience to remain in that place long enough to recognize its full significance. Impatience pulls us away from listening to God; it is the drive to be somewhere else. Our consumer culture bombards us with the message that our satisfaction is dependent upon something we don’t have, someplace that we’re not, or someone that we’re not with. But God calls us to the now. Be still, and know that I am God.1
Journaling helps us to slow down and listen. Only then can we distinguish between the thoughts and feelings that might easily deceive us, and give attention to the ones that invite us to new life.
56
Developing the capacity to listen
Distinguishing between the competing voices in our lives is a capacity we must develop. It doesn’t just happen. It takes time and training. When Jesus calls men and women to follow him, he calls them to be disciples. He explains that the heart of discipleship is listening to him and responding accordingly. Notice that his language is about “hearing” and “doing”—being attentive and responsive. Now Jesus’ mother and brothers came to see him, but they were not able to get near him because of the crowd. Someone told him, “Your mother and brothers are standing outside, wanting to see you.” He replied, “My mother and brothers are those who hear God’s word and put it into practice.”2
This kind of spiritual work requires courage and persistence. The psalmist understood this: Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD.3
Our approach to journaling
While there are many helpful ways to journal, we use a very specific method in order to build a capacity to listen and respond to God. It’s similar to working-out. If we want to be fit, we begin with basic conditioning like “running and push ups.” As we build our capacity, we’re ready for more vigorous pursuits. It’s the same with journaling. It does little good to move ahead until we’re prepared. We approach journaling in three progressive stages. It often takes 6-8 weeks in each stage before we are ready to move on. Patience will serve us well. The first stage is focused on slowing down and getting in touch with what’s happening in our inner world. The second stage is about discerning the invitations of Jesus. This is very difficult to do if we cannot first discern the disposition of our own hearts. Once we are able to discern the invitations of Jesus, we must engage our will to choose. Without choosing Christ’s invitations, we simply practice a form of spiritual narcissism that leaves us unempowered and unchanged.
First Movement: Becoming aware of our inner world
For many, waiting in quiet is a spiritual battlefield. Bombarded by the relentless cacophony of our interior lives—the clang and clatter of things to do and think about—staying focused is a titanic achievement.
57
Consequently, we have little understanding of what is happening inside of us—an inner world that is a jumbled mess of “To Do” lists, anxiety, apprehension, expectations, emotions and thoughts. Spiritual listening is hard work, and at times, boring. The power of our attention is not easy to discipline. It’s like a wiry kitten chasing a string until she is lost in distraction. Sometimes it’s painful. Quite often, it feels elusive. Unless we can distinguish what’s happening within us, we will struggle to clearly know the voice of God in our lives. The question we begin with is: “At this moment I feel . . .” Respond with one word. Wait and listen in silence for 10-15 minutes. Then write down just one word. By focusing on this question, we run the risk of breeding narcissism. Patience here. This is simply a means to an end. The challenge is to notice the significant motions stirring within us—insights, motivations, senses, feelings, thoughts, intuitions, memories, etc. Paying attention to the inner life is like laying with our ear to the roof of a three-story house. At first, we hear nothing. Soon, we begin to notice thuds and bangs. We’re not sure where they come from or what they mean. It’s just series of meaningless, muted echoes. As our “hearing” develops, we detect doors closing and cabinets banging. We notice water rushing through pipes, staccato-like footsteps, groaning stairs, doorbells, and the muffled drone of human voices. After a few more hours, we begin to recognize the location and source of each sound. Third floor bedroom door. First floor phone. Second floor conversation. Hot water running to the kitchen. Gradually, we’re awakened to a world stirring within, where we can both recognize the movements and discern their meaning. As we acquaint ourselves with the motions stirring within us, we begin to recognize the voice of Jesus. We also learn how to protect ourselves against the lies of the enemy that fuel selfhatred, and the delusions that feed the embers of arrogance. Many inner motions which are more powerful for spiritual good in our lives, more significant for showing us what God is doing in us, fade into the unreflected and eventually forgotten flux of consciousness.
58
They are never brought to the scrutiny of a faith-enlightened intelligence and integrated into our Christian life of free choice and love. On the other hand, we let ourselves be moved about and badly harmed or impeded by evil or destructive forces without understanding what is happening, much less doing anything about it.4
It takes time and training to develop this kind of attentiveness—often weeks, or even months. But unless we can discern what is happening within us, we will struggle to recognize God’s invitations, and we’re left with self-directed spirituality—doing our own thing.
Second Movement: Listening to Jesus The journaling question for the second stage is: “At this moment I sense Jesus inviting me to be . . .” Again, each day invest 10-15 minutes of quiet meditation before responding. In your journal, write one word. (A brief explanation can accompany if it provides clarity.) To live present to the moment is difficult. We easily get distracted. One form of distraction is introspection—the tendency to examine ourselves instead of observing what God is doing. Introspection, which is often rooted in fear, is an attempt to control our own experience. When fear and control dominate our hearts and minds, the mystery of Jesus becomes only what we allow it to be. In the world of introspection, there is no room for the Holy Spirit to break into our lives. As a way of illustration, consider a waterfall. A lacy curtain of water floats down through the sky, inspiring awe and wonder. The experience is more than the pieces. It’s transcendent— transporting us beyond ourselves, where new thoughts and feelings are stirred. It’s similar when we encounter the presence of Christ. Journaling helps us to be present to the moment, to the mystery of what God is doing right now in our lives. However, often our tendency is to control. To analyze. We dip a cup into the waterfall to capture a sample, and then turn our attention to analyze our experience. In the mean time, we miss the ongoing, transcendent mystery of the moment. In pursuit of analysis, we forsake wonder. Mystery flows on—unnoticed and unencountered. When we have learned to live in our heads—where our experience of life is filtered through the grid of reason and logic—it is difficult to welcome even the idea of mystery. Though our minds may protect us from painful encounters with our emotions, and provide a way to control how we experience life, they can also insulate us from encountering God at work within us.
59