listen. bless. repeat.

By Danielle Zieroff

For most of her life, Danielle was under the assumption that only pastors and strong Christians could "hear" from God. While on a short-term mission trip, she watched from the sidelines as teenagers participated in a simple yet powerful "pray and go" activity. These young people were hearing God's voice and responding! This mind-blowing experience led her to question what it meant to know and interact with the living God. Could she actually hear from God? Could she decipher His voice in the chaos of life? She also had to wonder, if people everywhere are hearing from God, why aren't we hearing more about it? Why aren't more people sharing their stories so others are inspired to experience God in their lives? Join her on her brave journey as she shares with readers her raw account of moving from skeptic to prayer warrior. You will read how completely normal it is to hear from God, be motivated to find ways God speaks to you, and experience the incredible joy that comes when you listen for God's voice to bless others. It is Danielle's desire that you will be inspired to turn your faith up a notch and make it a daily habit to spread joy in the simplest of ways. Listen. Bless. Repeat. Danielle Zieroff is an elementary teacher and a self-described "feisty firecracker." Her passion is using her spiritual gift of encouragement to mentor, motivate, and inspire others. Whether it's empowering little ones in the classroom, ministering in the jails, leading mission trips, or hosting Bible studies, her purpose is the same""to boldly use all the God-given energy bundled up inside her and make a positive impact on anyone in her circle of influence. She believes writing her first book about her faith journey is her big Esther moment! Danielle resides in Michigan with her husband and three sons. You can follow her adventures at www.daniellezieroff.com.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Aug 14, 2019
• ISBN: 9781643498386

Book preview

Chapter 1

Hey . . . What’s the Secret Password?

…WHEN YOU BELIEVED, YOU WERE MARKED IN HIM WITH A SEAL, THE PROMISED HOLY SPIRIT.

—EPHESIANS 1:13b

Afew years ago, my husband Mark and I were church shopping.

We felt like the church we were attending was getting too big. We had just helped raise money for a bigger, brand-new building, but when it came time for the ceremonial first service at the new location, there already wasn’t enough parking. We were starting to feel like minnows in a big pond. We desired real people interaction, and we wanted that for our boys more than anything.

We visited a few different churches and found that the church my mom had been attending for years seemed very focused on community. The pastors preached about serving and taking care of others rather than asking how we can be taken care of. We liked the idea of raising our children to learn to look at the bigger picture. We decided this would be a great place for our family.

And so, because my husband and I are both teachers, we got plugged in right away with the children’s and youth ministries—my husband with the elementary-aged children and myself with the teenagers. I had never worked with this age of children in a church setting before, but I had some good memories with my youth group as a young teen. I knew church activities could be pretty fun, so I inserted my crazy self into the group.

Some of them were getting excited for their upcoming annual short-term mission trip to Cincinnati. Naturally, I ended up diving in and joining the team. The only thing I knew about this trip was that we were going to be taking a group of teens for five days to do service projects in areas of the city that needed it most.

On the second day of our trip, we set up buckets, towels, soap, and water at a local auto parts store to do free car washes. At one point, Neil, one of the other leaders, approached me.

Hey, would you like to go into the store with me? I feel God has put someone on my heart with the name ‘Karen’ that I need to talk to. I just stared back at this young twenty-something. I couldn’t quite tell if he was serious or not. He just kept politely staring at me, waiting for an answer.

I vividly remember my exact words: Uh, no, thank you. I gave a nervous laugh and suddenly needed to get really busy with the photos I was taking of the youth group.

He kind of sauntered away, and I remember thinking, Well, that was weird! How uncomfortable would that be? Who walks into a store and just asks if there is someone working there with a not so popular name as Karen? Definitely not this girl! About five minutes later, I noticed he was walking back toward me. I had nowhere to hide. This guy was persistent.

Are you sure you won’t go with me? I really feel like God wants a woman to go with me. How could I say no to this guy? I was cornered. Begrudgingly, I followed him in. I might have even rolled my eyes. But into the store we went. Mortified, I watched as he very easily walked up to the counter to talk with the clerk.

Hi. Hey, is there a Karen working here? Just like that—wham, bam. No beating around the bush!

No, the man said. Well, wait. There used to be. But she hasn’t worked here in a long time.

Whew. I started heading toward the door. But Neil wasn’t done.

Well, do you think maybe you can check into it? Maybe someone has a number for her? he asked.

I can do that, said the clerk. Why don’t you come back a little later, and I’ll see what I can do.

It was time to go. I breathed a sigh of relief and led us out the door. I could not believe what was happening. We were going to have to go back in later? It was all too much for me to handle. As soon as we were in safe air, the words just came tumbling out.

"I cannot believe that just happened. You have no fear! Weren’t you scared?" I exclaimed.

A little. But I had to go. The name ‘Karen’ was really clear to me, he explained.

Are you kidding me? Come on! I wanted to scream at him, Let it go! But somehow, I knew that he wasn’t going to.

I spent the next few hours hiding from him behind the building. I tried to busy myself with watching the students clean car after car. I watched as they confidently talked to complete strangers. But try as I might, I couldn’t hide forever. He found me and back into the auto parts store we went.

Hi, again. Were you able to find out any information on Karen? Neil asked. The clerk apologized that they had gotten busy but would get on it and then disappeared into a back room. I stood in awe trying to keep my jaw tight so it wouldn’t hit the counter. He was actually going to call her? Just because Neil had asked him to? Did this kind of stuff happen to people all the time?

We both stood uncomfortably by the counter as other customers came and went. (Well, I know for sure at least one of us was uncomfortable.) Finally, he came back with a list in his hand, a list that had many names and numbers scribbled down. I couldn’t see much on the paper, but I did see there were two different Karens with numbers next to them.

Well, you guys, I have some sad news. It turns out she died of cancer. The few employees near the register just kind of stood there, letting his words sink in. I remember one of them looked particularly sad. None of them had known. You could have knocked me over with a feather. I immediately felt extremely uncomfortable. I would have paid big money to be captured and taken out of that store at that moment.

Luckily, Neil thanked them and we were able to leave. We both stood in silence on the curb. Did that really just happen? Did God tell Neil to ask about a Karen so that the store employees would find out about this poor woman’s fate, someone they all thought was alive up until just a few minutes ago? I started to realize that the anxious feelings in my belly were not going to leave any time soon, even though we were now out of the store. Why was I still so bothered by this, even though we were in the free and clear?

I gave it some more thought and then suddenly blurted out, Well, maybe we’re supposed to pray for her family or something. Maybe they’re having a really hard time with her death.

Now, where had that come from? Neil could tell I was just as surprised as he was that those words had come out of my mouth. He seized the opportunity quickly and started praying. His prayer was short but seemed so sincere, especially for someone who didn’t even know the person. I decided I should probably say a few words, too. When I pray, I close my eyes and no one is ever around to hear my ramblings. This was going to be a very odd thing for me.

I don’t remember the exact words I said but I do know how I felt when I was done. It was like a calming peace had come over my entire body . . . the kind of peace you get when you’ve done something good to make your parents proud of you. I felt like God was looking down from Heaven and saying, Thank you. I had followed my instincts and just did it. I had prayed out loud for a complete stranger and her family like I had known them for years.

So imagine my surprise when these next words came tumbling out of my mouth: You know, there was another Karen on that list of names and numbers he had in his hand.

Neil looked at me in bewilderment. Had I just made an excuse to go back into that place? Well, that’s exactly what happened next. Neil took the reins, of course, with no hesitation.

Hi. It’s us again! Was there maybe another Karen that used to work here? Or maybe one that works at another one of your stores? Oh. My. Goodness. That uncomfortable feeling had returned. I found myself slowly backing away and trying to busy myself by looking at all the silver gadgets hanging up on the aisle shelves.

After more discussion between the employees, they remembered there was in fact another Karen. She was working at one of their other store locations. The clerk gave Neil the number to that store and then we left. I knew well enough by now that Neil wasn’t just going to tuck the number away and forget about it. He was going to call it. There was no doubt in my mind.

When we called the number a little bit later, we found out that Karen wasn’t working at the store anymore. Neil felt that we had done what God had asked him to do and that we could move on with the rest of our day. Little did we know that before this trip was over, the name Karen would pop up again.

Later that night around the campfire with the youth, my mind was going in circles. I had so many questions. How come Neil was able to hear from God? While I was pretty excited to meet and know someone besides a pastor that had heard from a Heavenly being, I suddenly felt envious. How come I hadn’t ever heard from God before? I had gone to church my whole life. Maybe if I had prayed more? Or if I had read my Bible more? Ugh, those were such hard things to do. My life was so busy . . . ain’t nobody got time for that!

While I was dying to ask Neil how he had heard from God and what that sounded like, I knew I couldn’t. I didn’t want to have to admit that I had never heard from God.

But as I sat there that evening, I started leaning toward thinking that it must be pretty cool to be able to do that. I wanted to have specific people to pray for or do something nice for. Of course if God ever did start talking to me, I made the decision that I would do whatever He asked me to do, but quietly from the sidelines—not like the crazy Neil approach. That was just plain ridiculous.

The night was coming to a close and as leaders, we were exhausted. But to my surprise, one by one, the students wanted to share. Some were talking a mile a minute. They told us about the people they had talked to during the car wash. They shared with great enthusiasm how they prayed with some of them and even heard some of their struggles. I was hearing their words and trying hard not to doubt these real encounters with ordinary, everyday people. From the sounds of it, every one of our youth had somehow, in some way, felt God pushing them to do certain things or to talk to certain people throughout the day.

I was intrigued, to say the least. I was there, but just on the outside of the snow globe, looking in. I wanted to be in their club.

Chapter 2

Green with Envy

I WILL POUR OUT MY SPIRIT ON ALL PEOPLE. YOUR SONS AND DAUGHTERS WILL PROPHESY, YOUR OLD MEN WILL DREAM DREAMS, YOUR YOUNG MEN WILL SEE VISIONS. EVEN ON MY SERVANTS, BOTH MEN AND WOMEN, I WILL POUR OUT MY SPIRIT IN THOSE DAYS.

—JOEL 2:28–29

The next morning, the youth leaders broke off into small groups and were told to take some time together to share how the first service project had gone. Our leader was the same person we had been assigned to the day before. She had prayed for each of us individually (which in itself was a little uncomfortable) and then I had quickly escaped from the group to use the bathroom.

This day was different, though. I was way more into it. I wanted to hear more stories about leaders and students who had been chosen to hear from God yesterday. Plus, I had lots of questions. The women in my circle began to share. Some were concerned about a few of their students not getting along with each other. Another leader was having family issues back home. Another was already exhausted after the first few days and worried if she had the stamina to do the whole week. But none shared any Karen stories.

When it came my turn to share, I suddenly got nervous. Would they be skeptical of my story? Had all that really happened yesterday? And then it struck me. If I told them this was my first experience being with someone who had heard from God, would they think I was some kind of freak? Would I end up being the only one in the group that had never heard from God before? I was not about to take that chance. I clammed up. I politely smiled and looked to the person next to me, pleading with my eyes for them to start talking. It worked. I didn’t have to worry about being humiliated.

Before we left, our group leader suggested that we should program her number into our phones, in case we needed her to pray for our groups while we were out. I got out my phone and typed in the number and then slowly looked up, realizing I had forgotten her name.

She smiled warmly.

It’s Karen. K-a-r-e-n. And with that, she gave me a wink and walked away.

I’m not sure how long it took me to type in those letters, but it seemed as if days passed. My first thought was, Okay, what are the chances of all that happening the way it just had? That her name was the same name that I had thought about all day yesterday, that I had been assigned to this woman’s