[written on August 21, 2010]
“God and I as unequal partners....” mentioned by Philip Yancey
Who would have thought that such relationship could exist? It seems like God has “learned” the language of humans like these humans have to “learn” the language of their pet dog, or to Bo Sanchez, of a worm, to keep such an “unequal” relationship. “Learning” the language starts a communication, and communication is where any relationship starts.
The simplest definition of communication I learned from College English was it is a two-way process of exchanging information. There’s a sender, a channel, and a receiver. Then the receiver, in turn would become the sender, there’s a feedback, then the sender is now the receiver.
I relate to God by praying. And God relates to me as well, though not always the way I hope He would.
The fact is, I struggle hearing from God. I mean, I know His general will: “to prosper me and not to harm me, to give me hope and a future..” I know the do’s and don’ts: “Do not steal,” “Do not murder,” “Honor your mother and father...” But there are some specific things I ask God and in turn, hoping to get a specific answer, which means I need to hear directly from God. I need to discern something—but I’m not sure I did.
Joyce Meyer, in her book How to Hear from God, pointed ways how God communicates to His people.
- wisdom and common sense,
- through people,
- through my own mouth (words),
- correction,
- persistent promptings,
- heart’s desires,
- conviction,
- conscience;
these, I found to be the usual ways God “talked” to me.
Then it goes deeper:
- through His Word, (or Rhema, which is God’s spoken words)
- through visions, dreams and prophecy, something I feel that are so elusive to me;
- peace that transcends all understanding
- and the most mysterious to me: through a still small voice.
Since I don’t think I had one moment of it, it’s a whole new dimension I long to have: something more personal, more intimate.
Quoting from Philip Yancey’s Prayer, Does it Make Any Difference? words I can also own:
“So I have a problem with God. I have never had a conversation with him; I have never heard his audible voice. Though I sometimes feel powerful religious emotions, I am cautious in interpreting my impulses and feeling as messages from God. I do not want to take the Lord’s name in vain. I do not want to say, “The Lord told me,” when in reality I heard a mental recording of my mother’s voice. I have spent any number of hours talking to God, and he has not yet answered back in a voice that was undeniably his.”
-Knowing the Face of God, Tim Stafford
Meanwhile, there are some words I treasure since God spoke it as a personal message to me, though He spoke not directly to me:
“Don’t worry; you’ll see your daughter leap in joy.”
He told those words to my mom when I was so bothered, I’m about to fail a subject back in college.
(God does care for our littlest concerns. Back then, those moments were so heavy for me, but at present I could laugh at myself for allowing such state take over me.)
“It’s worth it.”
He spoke that through my friend, Kevin. Whatever God meant, those words were encouraging especially in times when I am chaotic inside and my light of hope is dim. And through the same person He told me, He is always thinking of me.
Those are few words I hang on that God could be “personal” to me as well.
I appreciate God’s every attempt to relate to me deeper—even though he does through other people. And I cannot imagine how happy would I be had God talked to me first hand.
I wish I could draw the line between an encounter with a fellow believer telling me, “God loves you,” and an encounter with God, telling me personally, “I love you.”
I long for it: a God moment when I know without a doubt that the voice I hear and the leading I feel are His, not of my own.
I couldn’t understand why the encounter I long for is something He easily gives to anyone else, to some, who doesn’t even desire it the way I do. I don’t understand why He prefers to give it to people, who don’t even ask for it the way I used to.
Joyce Meyer emphasized in her book How to Hear from God, that to be able to hear clearly from God, one must be “still” – being in a quiet place and waiting upon Him to speak is of value. But how about Joel Osteen’s story about a woman yelling at God, “I hate you!” then God replies, “This is the first time you’ve spoken to me, and I just want tell you that I love you.” What about a Muslim bargaining with God, then God suddenly shows up? What about Paul persecuting the church, then Jesus suddenly speaks, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?”
Then I learned that there is no absolute formula on hearing the “voice” of God. God speaks when He wants to and He does not when He does not want to. God talks “audibly” to whom He wants to. And it hurts to realize that “at the moment,” I am not of them.
When people speaks about that “voice,” I could already find similarities like it is “the gentlest, most loving voice..” And the common experience of perfect peace that filled their hearts; yet here I am who cannot even quote the words, “The Lord told me..”
Being an unequal partner that I am, I have no power to dictate a God how He should relate to me. That encounter I hope for, that voice I long to hear—are something I cannot have on my own. No effort is enough to move God the way I long He would. It’s something I can only hope for, something I can only wait for, something I can only ask.
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