Standing in the Storm: The Secret to Communing with Your Own Heart

 Standing in the Storm

The sky over Gautier, Mississippi, was turning that heavy, bruised shade of purple-grey that usually means you ought to be inside. For hours, my phone had been blowing up with alerts—tornado warnings, severe thunderstorm watches, the whole nine yards. You know how it is; the "experts" tell you the world is ending tomorrow, but you look outside and it’s just a beautiful day. I looked at my wife, Susan, and said, "Let’s go for a walk while we can. Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed."

We went for that walk, enjoying the calm before the literal storm. But this morning, reality caught up with the forecast. The wind started picking up, howling through the trees, and the thunder began that deep, rhythmic growl that vibrates right in your chest. Susan was getting ready for work, frantically searching for an umbrella. We finally found the one—just one—and she headed out. I stayed behind, phone in hand, realizing that there’s no better time to talk about the storms of life than when you’re sitting right in the middle of one.

You see, we live in a world that is constantly screaming for our attention. We have podcasts (yes, like mine!), social media, the news, and the endless "ping" of notifications. It’s noisy. And in that noise, it is so easy to lose track of who we actually are. We feel the "agitation" of life—that restless, gnawing feeling that something is wrong, but we can't quite put our finger on it. We struggle with identity, asking, "Who am I? Why do I keep falling into the same traps?"

The solution isn't found in more noise. It’s found in a practice that the modern world has almost entirely forgotten: communing with our own heart. If we don’t learn to do this, we’ll always be at the mercy of the storm outside. But if we learn to search our own spirits, we can find a peace that passes understanding, even when the lightning is flashing right outside the window.

As I sat there recording in the dark, the thunder punctuating my thoughts, I couldn't help but think about Asaf. He was a psalmist, a musician like me. If you’ve read my book OPEN YOUR EYES, you know I believe the supernatural isn't just "out there"—it’s integrated into our very being. Asaf understood this. He wrote something in the 77th Psalm that has been rattling around in my spirit lately:

I call to remembrance my song in the night: I commune with my own heart: and my spirit made diligent search. (Psalm 77:6).

Think about that for a second. Asaf was a guy who remembered his "songs in the night." Being a musician, I know how a melody can stick with you. Just the other day, I was in a Walgreens, and some secular tune from thirty years ago started playing. I hadn't heard it in decades, but I left that store humming the tune. Music has a way of bypassing the logical mind and sticking to the soul.

But Asaf wasn't just humming oldies; he was using those God-given songs to "commune" with himself. Notice the language he uses. He says, "I commune with my own heart," and "my spirit made diligent search." There’s a "Trinity" of sorts happening within the human person. There is the "I"—the conscious observer—there is the "heart," and there is the "spirit." It’s like an intra-personal conversation.

When God said, "Let us make man in our image," there was a plural conversation happening within the Godhead. Since we are made in His image, we have this capacity to talk to ourselves, to search ourselves. Most of us, however, use that internal dialogue to worry or to beat ourselves up. Asaf used it to make a "diligent search." He was looking for something. He was investigating the "ID," the identity of who he was in God.

Lately, on Voxer, I’ve been talking with a lot of folks about iniquity. Iniquity isn't just a fancy word for sin; it’s that bent, that crookedness in our nature that leads us away from God. We’ve been studying the seven churches in Revelation, and Jesus keeps hammering on one thing: overcoming. To overcome, you have to know what you’re fighting. You have to be able to look at your own heart and say, "Wait a minute, where did that thought come from? Why am I reacting this way?"

Another passage that really hits home is Psalm 4:4. It says:

Stand in awe, and sin not: commune with your own heart upon your bed, and be still. Selah. (Psalm 4:4).

"Stand in awe." That brings me back to a scene I’ll never forget. Years ago, I was at a church in Houston, Texas. The presence of God began to manifest in a way that was almost terrifying. It wasn't a "scary movie" fear; it was "awe." I felt like I was being pulled straight toward the Throne, and I remember thinking, "I don't care if this kills me, I have to get closer."

When you are in that kind of awe, sin becomes impossible. You’re like Isaiah in the sixth chapter, crying out because you realize you’re "undone." Everything secret, every hidden motivation, is exposed in the light of His glory. That awe is a Fear-Factor that actually protects you. It causes you to "sin not."

But then the Psalmist gives us the "where" and the "how." He says to do this "upon your bed" and to "be still." In Asaf's day, they didn't have iPads or Netflix to distract them before sleep. The "night watches" were a time of silence. But the principle is the same. Your bed is the place where the carnal mind finally starts to shut up. When you first wake up, or just before you drift off, your conscious "gatekeeper" is relaxed. That is the perfect time to let the word of God, which is a lamp to our feet, shine into the dark corners of the heart.

We need to be "watching" our hearts like a guard watches a city at night. You’re looking for holes in the armor. You’re looking for where the enemy might be trying to sneak in. Remember what God told Cain? "Sin lieth at the door." (Genesis 4:7). It’s not just something you go out and find; it’s something that wants in. By communing with your heart in the night watches, you’re checking the locks. You’re meditating on the Word so that there’s no room for the enemy to set up shop.

Personal Reflections

I’ll be honest with you—I haven't always been good at this. There have been plenty of times where I’ve tried to "consult with myself" without involving the Holy Spirit. Nehemiah did that once. He said, "Then I consulted with myself, and I rebuked the nobles..." (Nehemiah 5:7). But there’s a danger in consulting with yourself if you aren't grounded in the Spirit. The heart of man, left to its own devices, is "deceitful above all things."

I’ve had moments where I thought I was doing something for God, but when I finally "stilled" myself on my bed and let the Lord search me, I realized I was just acting out of pride. I wanted to be seen. I wanted the "selfie" version of ministry. It’s like what I talk about in Overcoming Night Terror; if you don't deal with the internal stuff, the external spiritual warfare is going to be a lot harder.

Jesus corrected me on this by showing me the "nose in the corner" principle. You know how you put a kid in the corner to think about what they did? Sometimes we go through trials—storms like the one rattling my windows right now—and we wonder why God is allowing it. Often, He’s just putting us in the corner. He’s saying, "I want you to sit there and try your ways."

I’ve learned that if I judge myself, I don't have to be judged. If I take the time to commune with my heart and say, "Lord, search me and see if there be any wicked way in me," then I can break off those iniquities before they turn into a full-blown disaster. It’s much better to have a conversation with the Holy Spirit on your bed than to have a "correction" in the middle of a crisis.

Biblical References

Throughout the scriptures, we see this call to internal examination. It’s not a suggestion; it’s a requirement for those who want to "dig deeper” and "go higher." In the book of Lamentations, Jeremiah is weeping over the destruction of Jerusalem. In the midst of his pain, he gives us this key:

Let us search and try our ways, and turn again to the Lord. Let us lift up our heart with our hands unto God in the heavens. (Lamentations 3:40-41).

Notice the order. First, we search and try our ways. We look at the data of our lives. We don't just complain about the punishment; we look at the cause. Then, once we’ve searched, we lift our hearts—our purified, examined hearts—up to God. You can’t truly "lift up your heart" if it’s full of unexamined iniquity.

Even in the New Testament, Paul brings this up in a very serious context: the Lord’s Supper. He warns the Corinthians that they were getting sick and even dying because they weren't "discerning the Lord’s body" and weren't examining themselves.

For if we would judge ourselves, we should not be judged. (1 Corinthians 11:31).

This is the "overcomer's" secret. We don't wait for the fire of judgment to fall; we bring the "candle of the Lord" into our own hearts every single day. We use the Word of God as a "discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart." (Hebrews 4:12).

And then there’s that fascinating counsel from Daniel to King Nebuchadnezzar. He tells the king to "break off thy sins by righteousness, and thine iniquities by shewing mercy to the poor." (Daniel 4:27). Sometimes, we get so focused on our internal muck that we forget that the "way out" is often through action. When we show mercy, when we work the field God has given us, it has a way of breaking off the chains of iniquity that we’ve been struggling with.

Key Takeaways

• The Internal Trinity: You are composed of "I," heart, and spirit. Use your conscious "I" to lead your heart and spirit in a diligent search for truth.
• The Power of Awe: Getting close to God creates a holy awe that naturally repels sin. When you are filled with His presence, the desire to sin loses its grip.
• Utilize the Night Watches: Use the quiet moments on your bed—before sleep or upon waking—to commune with your heart without the distractions of the world.
• Self-Judgment Saves: By proactively judging our own motivations and actions against the Word, we avoid the corrective "judgment" that comes from unaddressed iniquity.
• Mercy as a Weapon: Breaking off iniquity isn't just about "not doing bad things"; it’s about actively doing good, such as showing mercy to the poor.

Conclusion and Call to Action

As the thunder begins to fade into the distance here in Mississippi, I’m reminded that every storm eventually passes. But the question is: what did the storm reveal about your foundation?

If you’re feeling "undone," if you’re struggling with your identity, or if you feel like you’re stuck in a cycle of iniquity, I want to challenge you to stop looking for the answer in the next podcast, the next book, or the next social media post. Tonight, when you lie down on your bed, be still. Turn off the phone. Turn off the noise.

Ask the Holy Spirit to be a candle in your heart. Commune with yourself. Search your ways. Don't be afraid of what you find, because God grants repentance to those who acknowledge the truth. Once you see the truth, you can break off the old and walk in the new.

If this message has touched you, I’d love for you to share it with someone who might be going through a storm of their own. You can find more resources, my books OPEN YOUR EYES and Overcoming Night Terror, and hundreds of other episodes at ConradRocks.net.

Keep digging deeper and going higher. I’ll talk to you soon. God bless you.

Action Items

• Schedule a "Night Watch": Tonight, spend the last 15 minutes before sleep in total silence. No devices. Just you, your heart, and the Lord.
• Memorize a "Song in the Night": Choose a Psalm (like Psalm 23 or Psalm 4) and read it until it becomes a "melody" in your mind that you can recall when things get noisy.
• Perform a "Diligent Search": Identify one recurring reaction or "trap" in your life. Ask the Lord to show you the iniquity (the "bent") behind it.
• Exercise Mercy: Find one concrete way this week to show mercy to someone in need. Use this act of righteousness to intentionally "break off" a struggle you’ve been facing.
• Audit Your Motivation: In your next "good work" or ministry moment, stop and ask: "Am I doing this for the 'selfie,' or for the Father’s glory?"