Our pastor, Jim Swaney, is teaching a series on the Holy Spirit. After one sermon, our worship leader gave a spontaneous testimony of how God had been “speaking” to him for years, even before (in his forties) he gave his life to Christ. Some of us are slow to listen, including me. I was in my late thirties, though I had been reared in the church when I gave my life to Jesus.
I think we all feel those inexplicable nudgings, the sudden bright light of something more, like a sunrise in your rearview mirror that blinds you before you tip the visor in such a way that the light shifts. We have close calls and fail to recognize Who it is speaking. Or we do and go into flight mode. Or duck and cover. Praise God for His patience, His ever-faithful, never-ending, ever-lasting love, even for those who reject Him to the end and miss grasping Jesus’ hand before descending into the abyss because they preferred the religion of “I can do it MY way.”
No, you can’t. There’s one way, no other way, but Jesus. Not if you want Heaven as your future home.
God speaks to every human being on the planet. If not through a pastor in a pulpit, through creation, through people who know Him as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, through experiences that are heaven-sent, and sometimes rescues we don’t even recognize as such. Have you ever had a moment when you knew instinctively you were in danger and the way to escape opened right in front of you? That’s not a coincidence. That’s a God encounter.
I had one of those on an Oregon Trail road trip with three other women. We pulled into a parking area, trying to find the location of an historic spring that we all wanted to see. A resting place for wagons heading west. We were in the right vicinity, but we’d seen no signs and couldn’t find it on the map. We got out of the suburban to stretch our legs and a truck pulled in with two men. A rifle was mounted in the back cab window. They got out and we all started talking. We asked about the historical place. I saw the men exchange a look, and they said they knew exactly where it was, and they’d lead us to it. Three ladies were eager to go. I had looked into the eyes of one of the men and red flags shot up inside me. Do NOT follow them. I seldom have visceral responses to people, only three that I can remember in my entire life, and this was one of them. When we got back into the car, I said we would follow them until they turned off and then I was going to put the gas pedal to the floor and head for the next town. Two protested. I asked if they’d looked the men in the eyes. One other had and had felt uneasy, too.
When we reached the next town, we stopped at an historic Victorian mansion for a tour, and I asked the guide about the other place we’d wanted to see. “Oh, there’s nothing out there. Hasn’t been for years.” Only God knows what those men had planned, and I’m glad I didn’t find out.
I’ve never forgotten that experience. I saw it then, and still remember it today as evidence of God’s loving protection. Thank You, Jesus!