When I changed workplace at the end of 2014, my commute changed from sitting in seemingly-endless Sydney traffic (or standing on a train) to a pleasant drive through mostly rural areas. I was initially struck with how my daily travel changed from looking at cars and breathing in fumes to fresh air and enjoying views over green hills, cows, sheep, goats and horses (and the odd alpaca). As I drove this new route, I noticed a stretch of bush where many bellbirds were calling.

I love bellbirds. While being a little unremarkable to look at, they have a beautiful, crystalline bell-like call that carries clearly over the air. The sound of many bellbirds in the bush calling out on a clear day is something that resonates within me and reminds me of home.

Learning to listen

As I kept passing by the same section of bush, I began to listen out for the birds’ call. This became a regular habit, rolling down the window to enjoy the sound each day. The more I listened, the more I became attuned to their call. Over time, I started noticing more groups of bellbirds along the way. In some places they were really loud and numerous, in others just the far-off call of a solitary bird. At the moment, I hear at least 7 places where they regularly call on the way to/from work.

Too busy to listen

I was thinking over how I was now hearing their call much more easily. This led me to draw a comparison to how I hear God’s voice.

For most of the time in my Christian journey, I have been busy with life, family, friends, reading, talking, doing. Prayer for a long time was fairly one-sided. I would talk to God and hope he’d talk back. I guess my expectation was that God would answer my prayers, but I would only find out when something obvious happened. The answer could be found in the result. There was hardly any expectation of an actual conversation.

The whisper

In recent times, I have found that God does actually speak to us. I guess I was waiting for his Big Booming Voice to shout at me from the heavens. Some people have had that experience, but that’s not a way that God has revealed himself to me as yet. Instead, I’ve discovered that he often desires to meet us in the still, in the quiet, in the secret place.

“The LORD said, ‘Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the LORD, for the LORD is about to pass by.’ Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper.”

‭‭1 Kings‬ ‭19:11–12‬

At one time in the story of the prophet Elijah, God reveals himself not as great wind, earthquake or fire, but as a whisper. Elijah experienced the full force of those things, but it was only after he recognised the voice of God as a whisper that he got up to follow.

How I’ve become slowly attuned to the call of the bellbirds has some parallel to how I am being transformed in my ability to hear the voice of the Holy Spirit. Initially, I only noticed the sound when I heard a loud group of nearby birds. Now my ear notices the faintest faraway call. In a similar way, I used to only hear God when he was shouting at me, and even then only when I was listening. Now I wait. Now I listen. Now I hear him, even in the busyness of life.

Allowing for times of stillness and quiet in his presence has become a practice that has inclined my ear to his voice, his heartbeat, his whisper. As a parallel practise, I have made also made it a habit to stop and listen for the bellbirds’ call. I don’t equate the call of a bird to God’s voice in any way, but I find that this practise is like training for me, to tune my hearing to the things that I value.

For me, this has been part of learning to stop for the One.