Wednesday June 1, 2005
Conversations with God
Some people have conversations with God. In fact, Neale Donald Walsch turned his Conversations with God into a series of bestselling books. But at least he subtitled his first book, “An Uncommon Dialogue,” as a way of acknowledging that not everyone has these conversations.
I think I did hear God call my name once. At least, I assume it must have been God, because I heard it quite clearly. I ran to my mother to see if she had called me. She hadn\’t, and there was no one else around.
The closest I come to an actual conversation with God is probably in the middle of the night, when I can\’t sleep, and thoughts twitter back and forth through the echoing recesses of my skull. Being me, I argue with those thoughts. I challenge them, test their hypotheses, pick holes in their logic.
If I could quit arguing, I would probably get back to sleep a lot sooner.
But do those thoughts come from God? Or am I just arguing with my own subconscious?
Different traditions
In my United Church tradition, not many people admit having direct conversations with God. We\’re big on hearing “God\’s call” – usually to a self-sacrificing low-paying vocation – but that call rarely arrives like a hand-delivered telegram.
Former United Church moderator Dr. Bob McClure described it as “a hand in the small of my back, pushing me where I didn\’t want to go.”
Most people I know feel that call over an extended period. It starts as an indefinable nudge. They shrug it off. Then it grows, until it can no longer be resisted.
God\’s intentions emerge gradually, like a figure out of a fog.
When Ralph Milton and I were starting the Wood Lake Books publishing house, I was working part time in a congregation. I knew I couldn\’t continue both careers.
“Write out a prayer,” said my minister, Don Johns. “Be as specific as you can. End it, \’I trust you, God. I trust you.\’ And then pray it every day.”
So I did. I wrote out the joys I found in pastoral ministry, and the satisfactions of writing and editing. I ended with “I trust you, God.”
Progressive changes To receive this column regularly via e-mail, send a request to [email protected]. E-mail subscribers also get excerpts from correspondence about these columns. Please forward a copy of this column to anyone who might be interested in subscribing.
If you want to order my books, you can call 1-800-663-2775 in Canada, 1-800-328-0200 in the U.S., or order them on-line at the Wood Lake Books website.
For a lighter look at ethics, faith, and life, I recommend Ralph Milton\’s weekly e-newsletter Rumors. You can subscribe to it at the Wood Lake Books home page in Ralph Milton\’s Site, or by sending a note directly to [email protected].
It\’s also worth pursuing Richard Fairchild\’s United Online site. Another site worth visiting is David Keating\’s \”SeemslikeGod\” page.
After a few weeks, the original words I had written no longer seemed to express my intentions quite precisely enough. So I revised them.
A few weeks later, I revised them again.
And again, after another couple of weeks.
But I still wasn\’t hearing any answers.
Until I compared the latest version of my prayer with the first version. And as I saw how my wording had changed, I knew I had received my answer.
That\’s how God – by whatever name – communicates with me most of the time. Like a flower, slowly opening. Like sunlight, burning off the morning mist. There\’s no perceptible moment at which the flower is open or the mist gone. It\’s just happening, all the time. It\’s only looking back that I realize it has already happened.
=====================================
Copyright © 2002 by Jim Taylor. Non-profit use in congregations and study groups permitted; all other rights reserved.
=====================================
PROMOTION PLUGS