(first published January 20, 2012)
I’ve been looking in the archives to see if I’ve ever told you this story. I don’t think I have. Not here anyway. I’m sorry. Because it’s about the one time in my 53 years I heard God talk with words.
Back in the old days, back before Social Media, I was at the end of a long week. I was doing my usual work as an associate pastor, I had a couple tough situations, and I did a wedding. Friday night we had a long (and wonderful) rehearsal where I talked with the couple about the connections between communion and first-century Jewish wedding customs. On Saturday, I performed the wedding. And Saturday night, I was getting ready to teach a class the following morning.
I was exhausted in every possible way. I wasn’t ready to teach. But I knew that it wasn’t because I had procrastinated. Finally, after dozing at the computer at midnight, I gave up and headed to bed. Like Andrew, Hope and Nancy had already done.
Our house is a split level. To get from the office to the bedroom, you climb six steps to the living room level, then seven steps to the bedroom level. I turned off the lights downstairs and climbed the first flight. As I turned to go up the next flight I hear, “It’s okay son. Go to sleep.”
I heard it. Whether loud enough for others to hear, or only inside my head, I don’t know. But I heard it.
I went to bed. I went to sleep. And teaching went very well the next morning.
Others have heard more exciting things in their one time hearing God’s voice. But when I think about my approach to talking with people, I think I heard right.