When I first toured the Capitol more than two decades ago, our guide revealed a secret that wasn’t really a secret: the whispering spot. He stood on one side of Statuary Hall while our tour group stood on the other side. Then he spoke in a whisper, and sure enough, we could hear the echo of his voice all the way across the room as if he were mere inches away.
When I look through the Bible, I see whispering spots everywhere.
For Jacob, it was Bethel.
For Moses, it was a burning bush.
For Samuel, it was the tabernacle at Shiloh.
For David, it was the cave of Adullam.
For Elijah, it was Mount Carmel.
For Daniel, it was an upstairs window facing Jerusalem.
For Jonah, it was the belly of a whale.
When I survey Scripture, I see God showing up in strange places, at strange times, in strange ways. And I don’t think anything has changed. God still turns appointments into divine appointments. He still uploads desires, opens doors, and inspires dreams. He still speaks through promptings and people and pain. And just as he did for Moses, He can turn any patch of ground into holy ground.
Listening doesn’t happen by default; it happens by design. You have to seek solitude, seek silence. You have to ruthlessly eliminate distractions. And you have to turn some voices down or tune them out altogether. It might be as innocent as talk radio or as innocuous as social media. Why not turn off the radio and talk to God during your commute? Or fast from social media for a season? Or take a silent retreat?
I don’t want to over spiritualize the importance of a whispering spot, but I don’t want to under spiritualize it either. Even if you take spirituality out of the equation, you need a space or place to get some peace and quiet. If you live in a city, as I do, it’s not easy. And if you’re a parent of little children, it might be ten minutes during naptime.
Your whispering spot will be as unique as you are, but you need to find a time and place to hear the still, small voice of God.