God's Voice

Lately, I've been seeking after God's voice. I've been seeking after his presence. If you were to ask me what my plan is next concerning things (like my job) I would tell you my plan is to stay close to Jesus.

This is the only thing about my life that I've come up with so far as something I'd really like to do. This makes me happy. It's not easy, it's not clear, it can make you look very foolish, to your friends, your family, even yourself, but I would perish with out his voice even though he doesn't' always come with answers.

I felt like a failure Sunday afternoon, when I returned home from church alone. I spent nearly the whole day with acquaintances and friends, yet when it came to the end I left the gathering alone and came home alone and spent the early evening feeling defeated.

I was tiered. I pushed back a little against the horrible accusations that I was failing and was failing God at my task to find meaningful relationships. It lifted a little, not all the way though and it followed me through my dreams and into my morning, where I was faced with the other failure which is my inability to finding meaningful work.

During my morning break at work I went to the little prayer room down stairs. I tired again to come before the Lord with the defeat because I know that what he really wants is whatever is there. I sat before him saying something like, "I'm not doing anything. I'm not coming up with anything to get out of this situation. What are you doing with someone like me? I'm doing it all wrong. I'm doing life all wrong. I don't know how to do it right, have a right thought or come up with a pleasing idea or plan for happiness."

And then so strangely as I was pouring out the self defeat I felt a stern presence and Jesus say he loves me, adores and cherishes me right now, but it was not relieving. It was burning coal held to my pride. I could hardly bear to hear it. I objected, "that can't possibly be true" and him saying back "it is." The thought and presence of his love washed over me, while I continued to find it unbelievable, while my pride wished that I had done something to make him proud and worthy of his love. He did not relent. I did not melt, but wanted to.

I did feel seen. I felt his patience. I felt that he was holding me tightly and I did feel that somehow this is what real love is about. Things aren't well, but he offers his love now. I got up, and went back to work hoping that the stone in my chest would crack and let it in, so that all the other voices would perish and I would walk freely into his love.

Later, much later, in the day I stopped agreeing with the defeat and agreed with his love and his perfect unseen plan. I even agreed that I must also be patient with me, especially when I feel the pressure of everyone else's expectations pressing up against me and the pride in me that wants to have a good answer for people when they ask.