In recent times, the title “prophet” has become a sexy one. This certainly wasn’t the case in Bible times because prophets rarely died of natural causes. Continue reading
Say you opened your front door and found God the Eternal Father standing before you, all smiles in a t-shirt and jeans, ready to spend a whole day with you… how many of your plans would be spoiled? Would you be uncomfortable if He asked to listen to the songs on your playlist? How would you react if he broke into dance with one of your earphones in His ear? Would the people you spend every day with be surprised to hear you speak politely to them? Would the beggar on the street freeze with disbelief after you dropped a coin, then two and a note into his plate?
Surely it wouldn’t be long before you relaxed and became yourself with breath finally caught and shoulders lowered. Those questions lingering in the back of your mind would break forth, catapulting off your tongue in rapid succession. Why me, why am I here? Why the family I was born into? Why did you let that loved one die? Why, oh why, is this world full of pain and suffering if you’re so loving? How deep your shock would be if instead of replying you, His shoulders shook with sobs of pain; pain you couldn’t hope to fathom because, as He would explain between sobs, only He knows the full glory of the destiny He would lead us to if only we stopped struggling.
At that very moment, your shopping list prayers would fall away as you looked at God in a different light. No longer would He be a mechanical celestial vending machine demanding presumptuous prayers in order to pop out whatever selfish treat you wanted but a loving Father longing for a hug from you, waiting anxiously for your face to light up at the sight or mere thought of Him. You would marvel at the willingness of an infinitely powerful God to be vulnerable with His creation, at the incredible courage involved in creating beings with the ability to reject Him. How petty your power games would seem then!
Overcome with emotion, the stark reality of your brokenness would squeeze your chest and pull a tear down your cheek. A new question would linger on your tongue, unsure if you would like the answer: “Why did a God like this bother hanging out with me? Was this visit a prelude to a break up? Did He come to tell me that He’d had enough of me?” Surprised, you’d feel His hand grip yours with a little squeeze. Yes, God would put His arm around your shoulder and say,
“Hey, would you want to talk about why you feel the need to be in control all the time? There’s no need to fear Me. There’s no need to fear anything, you and Me, we got this.” What a chat that would be! There’s no need to imagine either, God the Holy Spirit, comes to you every morning, longing to spend the day with you, guiding you every step of the way.
We all attempt to cover our nakedness with Adam and Eve’s leafy aprons (Genesis 3). Deep within is the realisation that something is horribly wrong, something is amiss. Our lives are filled with frenzied attempts to silence this realisation. Continue reading