You Whisper Something My Heart Can Understand

If you’re ever in the mood to be looked at like you fell one too many times headfirst off the turnip truck, tell people God spoke to you today. The conversation usually goes something like this:

“God spoke to you.”

“Yes.”

“So the skies opened, there was this blinding light, and a voice boomed out from the heavens. Gee, you’d think everyone would have heard that. Must have had their iPods playing too loud.”

“No, it wasn’t like that.”

“I see. So was it like the story in the Old Testament when a sorcerer named Balaam was hired to put a curse on the people of Israel, but when he was on his way the donkey he was riding started talking to him saying this wasn’t such a hot idea? A guy i know who’s a Raiders fan has a parrot with a pretty interesting vocabulary.”

“No, not like that either.”

“So what — Jesus sent you a DM on Twitter? Or does He use Facebook instead?”

“Cute. No, when I say He spoke to me I’m not talking about a voice coming from the clouds or Fido quoting Shakespeare. It’s a sudden, overwhelming bit of knowledge or command to do something you know didn’t come on a whim or out of the blue. It’s the Spirit stirring inside you.”

“Uh-huh. And you know this is God speaking to you as opposed to a simple case of something coming to mind how?”

“You know.”

“But how?”

“You. Know.”

And so the conversation goes.

The reason I mention this is yesterday evening God spoke to me. Which doesn’t happen very often, at least in terms of the overwhelming kind of talk. He usually utilizes a more subtle, cue card-flipping kind of communication. Not the case yesterday.

I was on my way home with Mrs. Dude, occasional puffs of conversation rising over the road noise and traffic reports. We were both tired. It had been a long day. Adding to the standard cares was a phone call I had just finished with my mom, talking about her second surgery in recent months for skin cancer. A time for quiet contemplation of this oddity we know as life on this planet, all the while acknowledging the clutching at the inside of my throat over what one day will come to pass when it’s time to say earthly goodbyes.

It was in this state God spoke to me.

Get out your precious little iPhone and put it to use. Text a friend, one you’ve been too occupied with other matters to think about lately. Tell them how deeply you love them. Do it. NOW.

So I did.

A minute later the friend texted back. “Thank you… you have no idea how much I needed to hear that right now.”

Actually, I did.

Thanks to a loving Savior Who in the middle of my burgeoning melancholy moved in me, commanding me to let someone who needed to know they were loved that selfsame thing.

Our God is a wondrous God.

And I deeply love my beloved friend.

Each of my beloved friends.