It only took about four or five words for her to recognize his voice as it boomed over the PA system that miraculous morning. A few words and she was simultaneously electrified with ecstasy and plunged into deepest embarrassment.
The girl, just your average teen.
The setting, a high school classroom, populated with kids avoiding eye contact and each other.
The voice, The Rock, Dwayne Johnson.
That morning, every ounce of adolescent blasé was blasted as he very publicly, very graciously declined the girl’s prom date request—he would be out of the country on a film shoot. He poured out praise for her gutsy ask, announced they were now best friends forever, and softened the blow of his refusal by renting out the local cinema for the entire school to view his new movie. Throughout this ordeal, the lightening-struck girl sat immobile, quietly wiping incredulous tears while classmates screamed and shrieked.
Why did this oddball Instagram reel hit me? Even though it was probably the last thing this girl expected to hear— given the context and her obvious non-cool-girl status—she knew his voice. Instantly. It was life-or-death time on “Name That Tune” and she nailed it.
You’ve probably already guessed how Jesus nudged me as I watched.
He said His sheep know His voice. Do I? Like that?
Do I recognize the voice of my Rock? When He speaks, do I drop everything, hold my breath in transfixed attention, gush joy, and nearly pass out with amazement?
Nope. I multitask away the wonder. Well, Jesus, I heard you the day I saw that little girl listening for all she was worth.
Try me again, Lord.
“Speak, Lord, for Your servant is listening.” 1 Samuel 3:10
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