The Shortwave Radio in Grandpa's Garage

Fourteen-year-old Marcus thought his grandfather's ham radio setup was just a relic — dusty dials and tangled cables filling half the garage in Topeka, Kansas. But when his grandfather handed him the headset one Saturday evening, Marcus heard only static. "There's nothing there," he said. His grandfather smiled. "Listen again."

Marcus tried. Static. He pulled off the headset twice, but his grandfather kept saying, "Put it back on. Someone's calling." The third time, Marcus caught it — faint beneath the noise, a voice from a missionary station in Papua New Guinea, clear as a bell once he knew what to listen for. "I hear it!" he shouted. His grandfather nodded. "It was there the whole time. You just had to learn how to listen."

In 1 Samuel 3, young Samuel hears a voice in the darkness three times and doesn't recognize it. He runs to Eli, thinking the old priest has called him. It takes a mentor's wisdom to help Samuel understand: this is the voice of the Almighty. "Go and lie down," Eli tells him, "and if He calls you, say, 'Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.'"

God's voice often doesn't arrive as thunder. It comes as a frequency we haven't yet learned to hear — persistent, patient, calling again and again until someone helps us tune in. The question isn't whether God is speaking. The question is whether we've learned to listen.