The Listener (A Short Story)

I saw a man with pale skin and dark hair sitting on a park bench alone.  He sat still and peaceful.  I watched his face, intrigued.  What was I seeing?  He focused, but on nothing that I could see.  He seemed in deep thought, but not exactly.  He didn't have any ear plugs in as if listening to music or talking on the phone.  Ear plugs.  Music.  Phone.  These gave me clues to what I thought I saw.  Focused, yet not on trees or people or squirrels.  Focused, yet not on thoughts or memories.  His face didn't betray the worry of someone thinking about the future, nor the anger of a conversation gone wrong, nor the sadness of a conversation that never happened.  But his look had the same feel as one deep in thought, or as one who had ear plugs in.  Then I knew.  I made the connections.

The man listened.

But to who?

His face had the look of understanding, of connecting with someone.  But there was no one there.  He resembled someone with earplugs in that he seemed to listen to some internal source.  Of course.  Whoever he listened to was inside of him.  That's exactly how it looked.  It's like someone in him spoke to him, and it was also as if he spoke back.  The serenity and clarity on his face gave me the clue.  But I think I always knew who he spoke to. 

The Smile of God (A Short Story)

Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. 
Matthew 5:3

God, I want to do your will, no matter what.  Please show me your will.

I wait, alone, in the silence of my room, cherishing time to hear from my Creator. 

Then it happens.  An undeniable impression.
I saw the face of the love of my life, the woman I adored deeply. 

Intuitively, I knew what I had to do.  In three days, when she would come to me, I was to end our relationship.

I can't.  Not that.  Can't I work things out with her?  I know she rejects You, but maybe she's immature.  She may need more time.

The impression remained.  The date was set.  In three days, I must let her go.

On day one, I fasted and prayed, seeking every verse that suggested the possibility of her change of heart.

On day two, I took a vow of silence.  I wanted to hear with a clear heart.  I must know from God.

On day three, the day of the decision known by intuition in my impression, I lay prostrate before God.

Please.  Dearest God.  Please. 

The answer remained.  God's mind doesn't change.

I hear a knock on my door.  It's her.  My heart and soul is at my door.

Hi.
Hey sweetie.  What took you so long to answer?
I have something to tell you.  Please come in.
What's wrong?  You look...I don't know...what's going on?
I look deeply into her dark, soft eyes, those brown eyes that melt me.  And I simply said it.
We can't be together.
Why?

Remember when I told you that I have come to a point in my life where I want to belong completely to God?

I remember.

You said you didn't want that, but that you respected my wishes.  But we can't be together, we can't get married, if we aren't both seeking God's will for our lives.

Darren....why?
More than anything, anything in this world, I hated it when she cried.

Melissa, with all of my heart and soul, I love you.  But I love God supremely.  We can't be together.

Her brown tear filled eyes continued to melt me.  She kissed me sweetly, a kiss that entranced me, but didn't sway me.

I love you too, Darren.

Then she was gone.

As I watch her walk to her car I feel like running after her, grabbing her, hugging her, changing my mind.  I felt like I could...almost like I would.  If she'd only been mad, it would've been so much easier to watch her walk away.  She looked back, and waved the most beautiful wave I've ever seen.  Why can't she just get mad, look mad, act mad?  I'm in love with the way she's leaving.  She gets in her car, shuts the door, drives away.

Then it happened.

It felt like a cloud lifting, like a mist evaporating.  The temptation was over.  I felt light and enlightened,  clarity filled me and came over me. 

I felt the smile of God. 

The Prayer

I sat alone in my room, determined not to leave until God answered me.  What was the point of living if He didn't?  I was tired of wasting my life, tired of regrets, tired of irreversible mistakes.  I wanted an answer.  The answer. 

What is the purpose of my life?

Why go on if I didn't know?  What would keep me from regrets, wasted time and relationships, consequences?  If only I knew why I existed, I could use my time wisely.  I won't leave this room.  I won't do anything else until I know. 

The sun is rising.  The rays increase.  How beautiful!  I will give God until the sun sets.  I mean no disrespect.  I just have to know. 

God, what is my purpose?  What did you have in mind when you created me?  What did you imagine my life to be?

Six hours pass.  Noon day sun shines through my window.  Beautiful!  I don't want God to wait to the last minute.  I mean this with all due respect.  I don't want Him to answer at sunset, or right before.  I don't want the suspense.  I actually just want to know now.  Of course I can't force God's hand.  What am I going to do, threaten suicide if He doesn't answer me now? 

But why should I live for the next ten minutes, the next ten seconds even, if I don't know why I'm here?  I have to know.  And I have to know now.  Why shouldn't I?  With all due respect, God I feel you owe me this.  Please answer me.

I know I said I give You until sunset, but I'm rethinking it.  What am I supposed to do until then, six hours from now?  I guess my purpose is to find my purpose.  But what after that?  I can't spend the rest of my life, or even this day, just searching.  I won't.  I have to know now.  But even that seems unreasonable.  Alright.  God, with all due respect, I'll give you seven minutes.  Seven seems like a holy number and all...and it's enough time for time to elapse, but not so long that it seems pointless.  Why does it take anytime at all for the Creator to answer His creature.  With all due respect. 

Alright.  If you don't answer me in 7 minutes, I'll end my life.  I'll overdose on pain relievers and die in my sleep...hopefully...I'm sorry...I'm not trying to give you ultimatums or anything...I don't know how else to get your attention...but I really don't mean any disrespect...

6 minutes left.

Wow.  In less than six minutes I'll be dead.  I'm sorry God.  Please forgive me.  Man.  How do I know I won't go straight to hell?  I'm killing myself in less than 5 minutes.

4 minutes left.

God, please forgive me for all of the things I've said and done to disrespect you, even this ridiculous time limit I'm giving you....

2 minutes left.

Something is standing out to me...I seem to care a lot about respecting You, and a lot about disrespecting You...

1 minute left.

I don't want to die.  I don't want to take a life that's not mine. 

My life is not mine! 

It's God's! 

I should respect God by staying alive!

7 minutes passed.

God, I'm alive.  And I'm yours.  Being Yours is my purpose.  Thank you for your patience.

I went to my favorite dock later that day and watched the sun set.  Glad to be alive.  Glad to belong to the God of sunrises and sunsets.  Belonging to God gives my life meaning.  Enough meaning to keep living.  Enough meaning to keep being.  I realized, or rather I was shown, that being exactly what I am in my purpose.  When I am true to what God made me to be, I am fulfilling my purpose.  Simple.  Do what I like.  Be what I am.  Because what I like and what I am is what God made me to be.  Again, simple.  Most of God's revelations are.  It's like I was remembering something I had forgotten.  Or like seeing a blue jay in a tree that had been there for some time.  It's hard to explain, but God did answer me...in less than 7 minutes.

The man at my door

Who is it?

I'm Joshua. I'm going door to door sharing a message that will change lives.

I don't want to buy anything.

It's free, at least as far as money goes.

Free.  Life changing.  What kind of commitment do I need to make?

You will need to commit your life.

Wow.  That doesn't sound free to me sir.

It is.  The price for this life changing experience has already been paid.

Oh, you're one of those Bible Thumping Hellions.

No. 

Can we talk without me opening the door.

Yes, if you want.

Alright.  What's going to change my life?

An experience with God.

So you're a messenger of God now, a prophet?

Yes.

Really.

Yes, I am sir.

How can I know?

Here's the thing sir.  You're assuming that if you did know, it would make a difference in your life.  Is that right?

I don't know.  What do you mean?

What if you knew that I was in fact a messenger of God?  What if I said something that made you know without doubt that God sent me?  What difference would that make in your life?

I guess I'd live for God.

So the only reason you're not living for God is that you're not convinced that He's real, or because you haven't experienced Him directly?

I guess so...I've never really thought about it.

Are you sure?

.....Let me think about it...

So now you seem to be saying that it's possible for you to reject God even if you knew without doubt He exists.

Well...even if He does exist, He doesn't seem like the kind of deity I want to follow or serve...

What do you mean?

I mean look at all the evil in the world.

What about it?

What do you mean what about it?  If God exists, why doesn't He stop it?

Give me a specific example, like something evil you've done.

...Well, I've never killed anybody...I've never done anything evil...

So you're perfect.

Of course not...but I haven't done anything really bad, like prison time bad.

So you're perfect.

I said I'm not. 

Alright, so you've done bad things in your life?

Of course I have.

Things you regret?

Yes, who hasn't.

Things you wish you could undo?

Yes, I've done bad things, alright?

So why didn't God stop you?

.................................................I don't know...............

Can you blame God for the bad you did that He didn't stop?

....................I guess not...................

Do you want me to convince you that God sent me?

How would you do that?

Think to yourself of what would completely convince you...something I could say or do that would completely convince you.

................Alright................

Do you have it?

Yes.

Now write it down...of course I can't see it because I'm outside.  In fact, go to a room in the back of your house, out of my sight, and write it down.

................This is getting weird..................

What do you have to lose?  Either I'm a messenger from God and you can respect what I'm saying, or I'm not, and you can dismiss me.  Either way, you've lost some time, but that's about it.  You don't strike me as someone with faith in God that I could discourage or anything.

No, I'm definitely not a man of faith.

So what do you have to lose if I'm a fake? Nothing.  But if I'm not a faking, you have your soul to lose.  It seems like you would take the chance and find out...for the sake of your own soul.

....................................................Alright..........................................I'll write it down..........

I'll wait.

***

Alright.  Convince me.

You didn't write anything down.  You wanted to see if I am a fake or not, so you expected me to tell you something that was completely off.  But if you would've written something down, it would've been this:  "Why did God let my dad die?"

You asked God a year ago why He let your dad die when all your dad tried to do is live a good life.  He was your bestfriend.  You shared a secret with him, something you don't want your wife to know.  You told your dad that you and your wife's sister almost slept together when your wife went out of town.  It didn't start out like an affair or a one night stand.  Your sister-in-law came over to get something she left, and she stayed and talked.  She always admired you, and her admiration makes her very desirable to you.  You talked for hours.  The more you looked into her eyes, filled with awe of you, the more you wanted her...needed her...longed for her...because she seemed to want, need, and long for you in a way that your wife didn't.  You kissed her, and she kissed you back.  It was the sweetest kiss you've every tasted.  But for some reason, though you felt you could get away with it, you didn't.  You asked her to leave.  Things have been awkward between you and your sister-in-law, but your wife suspects nothing.  You told your dad because you felt guilty.  Your dad listened.  He didn't say anything.  Just listened.  You loved him more than you'd ever loved him.  Two weeks later he died an unexpected death.  For a year you decided that if God didn't answer your question, He didn't exist. 

....................You're from God....there's no way you could've known any of that...but God still isn't answering my question.  Why did my dad die?  He was a good man.  It wasn't his time.  Why?  I still need him. 

Whether God answers you or not, you know that I'm His messenger.  You know He exists.

.............I know.

What are you going to do?

I don't know.

Why don't you know?

Because a God who would kill my dad may not be worth knowing, that's why!

Nor a God who would let you do the bad things you've done.

That's nothing compared to killing my dad!

How did your dad die?

A heart attack...but no one saw it coming.

How old was your dad?

69.

At some point, your dad was going to die, even if it was of natural causes, even if it was in his sleep.

...........I know.............

Would you consider God a murderer if your dad died naturally?

I don't know.

Would you have needed him less at 70.

..................................................................No....................................................................................Why did you come to me today?  Why now?

Why not now?  Why not today?  What day would've been better?

I don't know.

What do you know?

I know that I need to think about what's happening.  Can you come back tomorrow.

No, I can't. 

..............................I appreciate you stopping by. 

Alright sir.  I appreciate you listening.

The waiter: A divine encounter

I sat at the table in the corner and met a man that changed my life forever, a waiter.  He was about 40 years old with golden brown skin and bushy hair.  His beard was well groomed, yet wild. 

"Hello.  I'm Matthew.  I am your servant." 
"No, you're my waiter.  Not my servant." 
"I don't mind." 
"But we're in America and we're free." 
"As your servant, I'm free, but in America, maybe we're not." 
I was offended.  "So I guess you're not from here?" 
"Yes, I was born and raised two blocks from here." 
"Then why don't you appreciate our freedoms?"
"Before I answer that, I don't want to take up your time before I take your order." 
"It's ok.  I'm actually interested to know why you feel like we're not free." 
"I feel free to serve you.  But you don't want me to feel free as a servant.  Even an American servant." 
"It's not that I don't want you to fee free.  It's that as Americans we aren't anyone's servants." 
"Even if we want to be?" 
"No offense, but aren't you an African-American?"
"Why would that be offensive?" the waiter asked calmly.
"No, not that you're an African-American, but my assumption." 
"What assumption?"
"My assumption that you of all people would reject servanthood." 
"I reject servanthood that is forced and dehumanizing.  I reject men who act as if they are God.  But I don't reject serving you or anyone else." 

I thought about that.  At my job we had seminars on "servant leadership," on how those who are the best leaders are servants at heart.  They seek to find and meet the needs of those who follow them, and of those who lead them.  But something didn't sit well me with...at the seminars and with this waiter. 

"I don't know.  It just seems like nobody should serve anybody...well, not that.  It seems like nobody should be anybody's 'servant.'" 
"Even if they want to be?"
"But why would someone want to be?" 
"Is there anyone in your life that you love deeply?"
"Yes, my wife and children." 
"When you try to make them happy, aren't you serving them?  Aren't you their servant?" 

I thought about that.  Or I'd never thought about that.  Sometimes I saw myself as my wife's willing servant...even her slave.  I gladly gave myself to her for her happiness.  I am hers.  She is mine.  She owns me, and I'm proud to belong to her.  I looked up at the waiter, and he was looking down at me.  His eyes penetrated mine, not uncomfortably, but like he really saw me.  Like he was paying close attention to me, and only me.  Undivided attention. The restaurant was loud and busy, but it felt like it was just him and me.  I liked him.  And I believe he liked me. 

"Thank you for being my servant." 
"You're welcome. Thank you for the honor of serving you.  What can I get you?" 

I gave him my order.  I read the paper while waiting for my order.  It finally came, and my waiter, my servant, brought it to me quickly and skillfully. 

"Can I get you anything else?" 
"Not for now." 
"I'm available when you need me." 

The waiter had a way of being pleasantly present and absent.  I always felt him even when I didn't see him.  When I wanted a refill, I looked for him.  He was at another table, yet he turned to me just when I was about to raise my hand.  He nodded.  I knew he would be right with me. He was able to nod to me without diverting his attention from the lady he was serving.  I hadn't seen anyone do that before, someone so connected.  I wanted to be like him.  I decided I would be like him. 

And that decision changed my life:

I am a servant.

The Oracle

If anyone speaks, let him do so as one who speaks the oracles of God.  1 Peter 4:11

I am sitting alone, listening, waiting for God to speak, to respond to my question.  I feel an inner sensation.  An intuition.  A revelation.  I write it down.  I pray for words that capture the sensation of illumination.  Not too many.  Not too few.  These are the words of God.

***

Surely the LORD does nothing without revealing His secrets to His servants the prophets. Amos 3:7

I am sitting alone with God, connecting, communing, feeling His heartbeat.  I sometimes smile when I feel His laughter.  Tears fill my eyes when I see what He sees on earth.  I am most honored.  God is telling me how He feels.

***

Thus says the Lord: “Let not the wise man boast in his wisdom, let not the mighty man boast in his might, let not the rich man boast in his riches, but let him who boasts boast in this, that he understands and knows me, that I am the Lord who practices steadfast love, justice, and righteousness in the earth. For in these things I delight, declares the Lord.”  Jeremiah 9:24-24

I am sitting alone with God, after hearing His heart, wiping His tears, laughing at his jokes.  Sitting at His feet, I understand what He's thinking and why He's thinking it.  I realize that at this moment, no one is wiser, stronger, or richer than I am.  To have the heart of God, to be able to hear the mind of the Maker, is the truest wisdom, the strongest strength, and the richest richness. 

***

“Sir,” the woman said, “I can see that you are a prophet."...."Come, see a man who told me everything I ever did."  John 4:19,29.

I am sitting with a stranger, led by the Spirit to her.  Though I've never met her, I perfectly understand and know her.  She gazes, amazed.  She feels more connected than she has ever felt in her life.  She is not my wife, but she loves me as if I were her husband, her friend, her father, her brother.  She loves me as she has loved none other, because she feels loved by me uniquely.  Intimately.  She longs for God because of me.

***

"If an unbeliever or an inquirer comes in while everyone is prophesying, they are convicted of sin and are brought under judgment by all,  as the secrets of their hearts are laid bare. So they will fall down and worship God, exclaiming, “God is really among you!”  1 Corinthians 14:24-25

I am sitting with a stranger, led by the Spirit to him.  I know what he thought this morning.  I know what he is thinking right now.  I know him.  He feels understood beyond understanding.  Connected to me as to a brother, a father, a companion.  "You're talking to me in the way that I think," said the stranger.  "How are you doing this?"  "God's Spirit is in me.  He knows you infinitely, and is sharing who you are with me."  "I want to know God," says the man.  "That's why I'm here.  Today, the Spirit of God will be in you too."

Being noticed by God

I am outside and standing in the sun, waiting for God to notice me.  Before this, I am getting my mail.  Birds chirp.  Wind blows.  Leaves move.  Light pierces moving leaves.  I walk back to my yard, then stop.  I am alone.  No people.  No man. No woman.

Alone.

I stand in the sun letting it heat my shirt.  I wait for God to notice me.

I wait for some sign. Something that shows me he sees me and is reaching out to me.  Some clearly deliberate thing to happen.  Maybe a bird lands in front of me, looks at me, and approaches me.  It chirps.  It waits for me to chirp back (somehow it makes this known.)  I imitate it's whistle.  It does it back.  As I type I hear birds chirping to each other.  Echoing each other's chirp, the same rhythm and melody, one lower, the other higher.  One nearer.  The other farther.

They are responding to each other.  Alive.  In sync.  Relating.

I am typing, in my house, looking at the sun shining on leaves, feeling the shade of my house, seeing the breeze on the trees in my yard, not looking at the keys as I type, waiting for God to notice me. 

How do I know if he's noticing me?  Really?  The same way I know if any other person is noticing me.  When I am outside I see a man with a red shirt on, talking on a cell phone, approaching his mail box.  I notice him.  But how does he know I notice him?  He doesn't, as far as I can tell.  He is not looking at me, or in my direction, and I am not trying to get his attention.

How do I know if God is trying to get my attention, like me getting the attention of the man in the red shirt?

I'm noticing the birds, but so is everyone else in my neighborhood.  Where is everyone else, other than the man in the red shirt?

What if it is just me at home right now? 

Creation.
Sun.
Trees.
Breeze.

None of these have minds, emotions, or wills.
They can't reach out to me.
But they can by used by their Creator.
How would he write me a message in the dirt, or the sky?
How would he call to me through a birds so that I know the bird is his messenger?

Maybe Adam waits in Eden for God to notice him.  But he does.  He speaks to Adam.  "From these trees eat.  From this tree don't eat or you'll die."

God speaks to the first man and woman.  Even to the serpent.

God notices them disobeying him.

God notices the man alone, puts him to sleep, takes a rib, closes the flesh, and makes a woman.

Why?

God notices the man alone and says, "It is not good for the man to be alone.  I will make him a complimentary companion."

He makes the woman and brings her to the man.
The man notices the woman; she, alone, is like him among all creatures.  He names her. 

I am waiting for God to notice me, to speak to me, to come to me. 

I am sitting in my living room.  Will he come?  Will an angel?  Will someone risen from the dead?

A revelation is God noticing me, revealing something he sees, hears, feels, thinks, chooses.

Am I alone?
I know I can pray.
I know God is everywhere at once, seeing all, knowing all, holding all together by his power.  Even me. 

This is God noticing me.
To be alive is to be noticed by God.
He is not passive.
He actively keeps me alive.
To be alive is to be noticed by God.
To be alive means God is paying attention...to me.

"In Him we live and move and have our being."