There’s a moment...a split-second when you "hear" His still, small voice. When that thought comes to you. When you feel that unction. When words form in your mind that you didn’t "think." Words from outside you. It’s God. Speaking to you.
Plain and simple: God’s voice must be responded to!
“Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him…” (Rev. 3:20). We have to respond. We have to acknowledge God’s voice with action. We have to do something. Get up. Make a note. Dial the number. Start the email. Take a step toward doing what He’s leading you to do. Say "thank you." Tell Him you love Him. Something.
God doesn’t bless behavior; He blesses obedience. So when He speaks, He waits for our response. Will we act or will we procrastinate? Will we be afraid of what people might think, or tell ourselves that maybe that it wasn’t Him, or fall victim of "analysis paralysis" and do nothing? His instructions always come with enough faith to carry them out, unless we start reasoning, questioning and doubting. God is the initiator of our faith, but He also gives faith to sustain and complete whatever He gives us to do. (Heb. 12:2) But it’s up to us to "open the door." To act in faith.
Over these last 4 days of just “fellowshipping” (i.e. "hanging out") with God, He’s given me a couple of specific assignments. One day, He said, “Love me today. Really, really love me.” Then He gave me the most beautiful sunset and a couple of worship songs on my playlist that lit me up. He made it so easy!
The next day, as I was leaving the grocery store parking lot, there was a homeless guy sitting on the curb with a sign: “Temp Homeless. Need work. Need help. God bless.” As clear as a bell, I heard, “Pull over and go talk to him.” With my car running and a dollar bill folded up in my hand, I came around and began a conversation with this fifty-four-year-old man with a big knee brace, horn-rimmed glasses and a tattered sign. His name was Matthew. His wife of 24 years had died of cervical cancer 8 years ago and Matthew had fallen apart. He has nothing. He sleeps in a tent in the woods. He begs for enough money to eat and buy the beer he drinks each night. He has no family. No church. No community. No one but God.
After a half-hour conversation, I asked Matthew, “How can I help you? What do you need, man?” He said “You can’t. I don’t need anything. I’ve got a Daddy who loves me. I’m lonely and depressed, but you can’t do anything for me.” We talked a little about his faith. He said he knows Jesus. Someone else came up. I said goodbye, got back in my car and drove away.
What I did for Matthew was "fellowshipped" with him. I squatted down and talked to him at eye level. I helped him with a little money, but mostly, I listened to him. I’d never seen a beggar or panhandler miss an opportunity to ask for more “help”…until Matthew. He got what he needed from me. It was enough.
I think that’s what God taught me through Matthew. He’s there to fellowship with me and meet my most basic needs. He’s not there to change my circumstances, although He certainly has the capacity. God is there to remind me I am loved. Immensely. In my humanity.
Living in the present and living in His Presence. Praising. Thanking. Asking. Listening. Loving and being loved. Acting in obedience. Trusting God for "next steps" and outcomes.
I think that’s what prayer is all about.
