I Love a Man Who Talks to God – ryan

My husband talks to God. And closely listens to His voice. In the unconventional, mundane moments of life. While he’s doing the dishes at the sink, the Holy Spirit gives him blueprints—the “how-to’s” for the dreams He is leading us into, showing us strategic tactics and next steps.

While we’re driving to Home Depot to buy bins to pack for a move to a place we don’t yet know, he listens closely to His prompts, nudges, and whispers about the home and property He has spoken to us about.

When I’m hormonal, pregnant, and all over the map, he hears my heart—and also listens to His voice—to know how to comfort me at the root of my anxieties and to know when all I need is for him to just hold me.

When he’s driving our 15-passenger Transit on a long road trip with our six littles and everyone has fallen asleep, he gazes ahead with piercing, eagle-like eyes as he hears the Holy Spirit tenderly speak to him about things coming up ahead.

When he’s architecting software solutions, he lights up with delight as the Holy Spirit shows him where the “bug” in the code is—divinely illuminating the solution to what he had been wrestling with for days.

When a guy buddy calls, struggling in his marriage, my husband humbly, non-judgmentally listens. With one ear tuned to every word his friend says, his spirit ear attuned keenly to the Holy Spirit, listening for the deeper issue causing the pain or struggle. And then, gently, he drops the bomb—a word of knowledge that, through the power of the cross, breaks the stronghold that had been binding his brother. He can feel the chains break and freedom unleashed in the spirit.

When a car pulls up in front of him with a peculiar word, number, or license plate, he sees it—the Holy Spirit’s confirmation of something he’s been asking for direction on.

When one (or multiple) of our kids are acting out, he asks the Holy Spirit why. Is it something he’s doing at the helm and atmosphere setting head of the family? Are they tired? Hungry? Needing heart connection? Needing a good rough-and-tumble romp and wrestle? He listens, waiting for wisdom to know how to care for that one, to meet the deeper need behind the need.

When his humanity and imperfections come out, when exhaustion from life with eight (almost nine) kids weighs on him, he responds to that gentle prompt of conviction. He pauses and asks the Lord to search his own heart. He comes to me, or to the kids, and repents. He doesn’t make excuses but humbly owns it and asks for forgiveness. And we repair and reconnect.

When he thought he was done having kids after six, but the Holy Spirit convicted his heart, he bravely followed—trusting God to provide for them and to give him grace to care for them . . . for each of them.

When I’m at the store without my phone, trying to remember if there’s anything he needs, he realizes I don’t have my phone with me, so he prays and asks the Holy Spirit to prompt me to get coffee. And as I’m walking down an aisle, the word “coffee” drops into my spirit, almost smacking me in the head, and I about-face and bee-line to the coffee section to grab his husky black dark roast.

When we’re at the hotel, midway through our Holy Spirit-led move across the country—the kids jumping on the beds, Bluey blasting in the background—I peek my head around the corner and see him. Sitting quietly. Staring out the window with those eagle-apostolic eyes, still and fixed. He is communing, talking, and listening in his spirit to the Holy Spirit. And I know, in those moments, it is sacred communion.

And I know that I am blessed beyond measure. I have a man who is not only handsome and wonderful. Who makes me laugh like no other. Whose heart is tender but also fiercely protective. Brilliant, kind, strong, and genius-level gifted. Literally—who can make a fire or fix any small engine. Who can haul heavy loads and care for little hearts. Who can glance at me for a split moment and know exactly what I’m feeling.

He is all those things and more, but the greatest gift is his heart. A heart that is humbly and radically tethered to the promptings and direction of the Holy Spirit.
A heart that knows how to hand over every care and concern (his own, mine, our children’s, our family’s, our friends’ and loved ones’) and our provision and protection to the One who is intimately involved in every detail of our lives. And He loves to commune with him, with me, with us—and to lead us on the wild and incredible journey He has planned for us.

My security as a wife does not depend on him, but how grateful my heart is and how much easier it is to yield and follow his lead, knowing his heart is attuned, his spirit keenly aware, and he is constantly listening as our precious, holy, humble all-knowing King and Shepherd gently leads and talks to him.