Last Sunday, I shared some thoughts on how God is a big boy, able to answer for Himself, and how He is eager and willing to communicate with us. The idea that we can’t, shouldn’t, or for whatever reason aren’t able to talk directly with Him, doesn’t make any sense.
Men do not control the idea of God, no matter how hard they’d like to try. God is perfectly able to talk for Himself.
And while He does use men and women for His goals and purposes, I know that when it comes to attaining a basic foundational knowledge of God, no mortal creature should act as intermediary or proxy.
That’s an experience that needs to happen to Heavenly Father and His child.
The next aspect of last week’s share ended with the principle that attaining this knowledge of God is only the first step. What we do with it afterward cements how any future interaction will go.
On this wise, I’d like to share a personal, first-hand experience that demonstrates both of these principles.
Sometime like six to eight years ago. It was late on a summer night, and I was in my car and beyond emotionally distraught. I was downright furious.
As of now, I can’t say why. I think it had to do with getting a ticket earlier after a cop was in front of me, going faster than me, then switched lanes, slowed down, got behind me and pulled me over.
That pissed me off.
However, the level of bitter anger I harbored on the night I’m referencing was at a different level. A few things about me when I’m emotional: I like to stay put and process what I’m feeling and why. I keep ninety percent of it internal and will only vocalize with another person if I think what I’m saying adds anything to the situation. However, in certain extreme instances, I have been known to devolve into yelling and rambling.
On this night, I was angry, driving without a destination in mind, and talking out loud to myself and God a lot. At the time, I was living in a city called Herriman, which is a break-off city of Salt Lake City in Utah. I was headed east, saying something along the lines of, “Ok, God. I’m pissed and driving and don’t know where. Where do you want me to go? Where can I go? What’s going on?”
Go to Daybreak Lake.
This answer from God came immediately. I’d barely finished my rant of questions before the familiar feeling in my heart swelled, and the words impressed on my mind. At this point in my life, I knew what God’s Spirit felt like, and I wasn’t a stranger to personal revelation, but being so angry, I almost felt rhetorical in my ramblings and almost didn’t think He would answer.
So, imagine my surprise when He did, and He was so specific and straightforward. So how did I respond?
“I don’t want to go to Daybreak Lake! What a stupid thing to say! Bada -bodaboda-baba!” All of this as grumpy and distastefully as one can imagine.
No surprise, God didn’t respond to that. He let me sit and stew with the previous answer.
Here-in lies the first principle I mentioned last week. God does listen, and it is possible to communicate with Him directly. I asked a question. He provided an answer. And then He left it at that because the ball was in my court. Depending on what I chose to do with what I received would determine any future interaction in this regard.
“All right…fine! I’ll go to the lake. But I’m not going to be happy about it,” I said in angelic and appreciative tones.
Fast-forward, however many minutes it took to turn around, drive there, park, get out, and I’m now sitting on my bench. That’s right, I love this place and have a favorite seat.
Daybreak Lake is beautiful in the evening. It’s manmade, with unique homes wrapping around every side. There’s plenty of light from street lamps, businesses, and the natural light from the moon and stars. This particular night was quite still; sparse clouds dotted the sky with a small, relaxing breeze.
And oh how I hated all of it. As soon as I sat down, I said, “Alright, God, I’m here. I’m sitting on my bench, and I’m going to be miserable.”
Now enters the second principle I mentioned last week. When one reaches out to God, one needs to be prepared to accept or reject the answer. My answer to go to Daybreak Lake was an invitation I ultimately accepted. You’ll see what I mean shortly.
After getting comfortable, I looked around at my surroundings, as I do, and I noticed a young woman sitting on another bench thirty feet to my right. She was sitting on the backrest, feet on the bench, and leaning over on her knees, staring studiously into the lake.
It hit me that she looked like she was having a very similar night to myself.
Go talk to her.
Again, the impression came to clear and concise.
“No! I want to be alone. I want to be miserable. You said to go to Daybreak Lake, and I’m here at Daybreak Lake, and I will remain at Daybreak Lake because that is what you said.” Ha, I sure showed Him.
Go. Talk. To. Her.
I argued with God for what I figured thirty minutes (I actually have no idea how long) about this. I wanted to be selfish, and having received what I needed from Him, I owed Him nothing, and therefore our business was concluded.
Oh, how wrong I was.