In my life I have at times I have gone through some dark periods… Sometimes these are self afflicted as I am not even trying to listen to the Master’s voice. I have for some reason always heard… yet unlike many who say they do not I hear, but I wish to not listen.
I often wonder at this… for as some teach I am to hear this inner voice less, yet the times I fall farther it often moves from a soft whisper to the desperate cry of one who sees a beloved child walk into traffic without a clue to its dangers…
I guess that is me at times… clueless… and set in purpose to be one who chooses to stop the voice… yet… even at the farthest reaches I found, that though the voice is al but silent… I know that there is a home… a Father Who though I be a soul that wanders too far knows he is loved…
I was very young when my father died. Around the age of two as I have been told. I do not remember the man who was my father; I am told he loved me. Somewhere though as I grew older, I lost what that meant… or felt like. I knew my mother loved me…. As mothers do and are supposed to… which is a great gift, especially if one never has known the love of a mother…
I once was lamenting of not knowing my father…and that I felt a bit put out… My friend looked at me and stated, “I think it is better to not know a father, than to have a father you know who beats you every night.”
This shook me.
You see, I had heard something of a different Father. Someone told me He would be a Father to the Fatherless… and for some reason I wanted that… more than anything… I desired to have that Father that I lost… to be able to know that there was someone who would be there, give me wisdom, teach me how to ride my bike, and if it break fix it… someone who would teach me to when to fight and when to stand… teach me how to thread a worm on a hook… and somehow, I learned all that… mostly by trial an error, yet always knowing that there was someone… this “Father” somewhere out there watching over me.
My family was not religious… or maybe that is what they were… religious… It was private and we just did not talk about it. We would go to church on Easter, Christmas, and… funerals and weddings… (if they happened at churches..) and an occasional baptism which I don’t remember ever going to… maybe I was outside playing or I never actually went to one until I was baptized as a teen… Though my mother assured me at that time I had already been baptized sufficiently and almost took it as I was saying she did not do a good job… I was too young what did I know… even now… what do I still know?
This Father haunted me… ever there. Never there. A phantom like in those comics like Ghost Rider… I felt secure and yet… not.
I decided that the voice was not real. This calling out was tiresome to one who has no idea who or what it is about. I started to medicate and seek “true love”. I wanted a girlfriend… someone to stand by me fight for me and love me even if I was totally wrong… I was young… what did I know of love… at fourteen I deemed myself unlovable and tried to kill myself by taking as many aspirin as I could… I stopped counting at 20… went downstairs laid on the guest bed, drank a beer and did not expect to wake up…
I never understood why I did not go to my room… maybe for fear they would not find me in my room… the guest bed was not in a bedroom but in an open room…
I woke up and heard my mother yelling that it was time for school… I rose and staggered to the stairs and yelled something… like… “I donth fleel soth goodt”. I felt like my entire body was on Novocain… I went back to bed and slept.
That was not the miracle... For the people who die of overdoes on aspirin die from liver failure from it trying to remove all of the drug. I was supposed to die about two days later… boom, drop on the floor… (That is what I was told later…)
Yet, that morning I had my first revelation… This Someone out there… this voice… it/He, whatever, had a purpose for me. I would from that day be on that search to find that purpose…
Mind you I had heard of Jesus at a bible camp… but as of yet, did not make a connection… Yet, God in Him mercy, introduced me to Him… I can only say at my younger age, I was chaos incarnate… and when I met Jesus, that storm began to calm… at times it still rages… I focus on the waves and curse Jesus for sleeping as the waves flood over the boat… I am rebuked… not in anger, but in His firmness and kindness as He will call me on my lack of faith, yet still calm that storm…
Life is strange… I found a Father through Jesus… I found a brother who tells me of my family…
My family is not religious anymore… we have found Love… and for some reason… religion seems to not stay around genuine love… it finds it curious and dangerous… Religion is like a boarding school. There is discipline and authority… and obedience is demanded… Fear is what fills the heart.
I am reminded of the words of 1 John 4: 18 – 19 There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.
We love because he first loved us.
As I walk in the Love the Father has lavished on me, I find I have been adopted into His family… I do not know all He is… nor all I will be, yet I do know that I will be like Him for I am now His son…
I often wonder at this… for as some teach I am to hear this inner voice less, yet the times I fall farther it often moves from a soft whisper to the desperate cry of one who sees a beloved child walk into traffic without a clue to its dangers…
I guess that is me at times… clueless… and set in purpose to be one who chooses to stop the voice… yet… even at the farthest reaches I found, that though the voice is al but silent… I know that there is a home… a Father Who though I be a soul that wanders too far knows he is loved…
I was very young when my father died. Around the age of two as I have been told. I do not remember the man who was my father; I am told he loved me. Somewhere though as I grew older, I lost what that meant… or felt like. I knew my mother loved me…. As mothers do and are supposed to… which is a great gift, especially if one never has known the love of a mother…
I once was lamenting of not knowing my father…and that I felt a bit put out… My friend looked at me and stated, “I think it is better to not know a father, than to have a father you know who beats you every night.”
This shook me.
You see, I had heard something of a different Father. Someone told me He would be a Father to the Fatherless… and for some reason I wanted that… more than anything… I desired to have that Father that I lost… to be able to know that there was someone who would be there, give me wisdom, teach me how to ride my bike, and if it break fix it… someone who would teach me to when to fight and when to stand… teach me how to thread a worm on a hook… and somehow, I learned all that… mostly by trial an error, yet always knowing that there was someone… this “Father” somewhere out there watching over me.
My family was not religious… or maybe that is what they were… religious… It was private and we just did not talk about it. We would go to church on Easter, Christmas, and… funerals and weddings… (if they happened at churches..) and an occasional baptism which I don’t remember ever going to… maybe I was outside playing or I never actually went to one until I was baptized as a teen… Though my mother assured me at that time I had already been baptized sufficiently and almost took it as I was saying she did not do a good job… I was too young what did I know… even now… what do I still know?
This Father haunted me… ever there. Never there. A phantom like in those comics like Ghost Rider… I felt secure and yet… not.
I decided that the voice was not real. This calling out was tiresome to one who has no idea who or what it is about. I started to medicate and seek “true love”. I wanted a girlfriend… someone to stand by me fight for me and love me even if I was totally wrong… I was young… what did I know of love… at fourteen I deemed myself unlovable and tried to kill myself by taking as many aspirin as I could… I stopped counting at 20… went downstairs laid on the guest bed, drank a beer and did not expect to wake up…
I never understood why I did not go to my room… maybe for fear they would not find me in my room… the guest bed was not in a bedroom but in an open room…
I woke up and heard my mother yelling that it was time for school… I rose and staggered to the stairs and yelled something… like… “I donth fleel soth goodt”. I felt like my entire body was on Novocain… I went back to bed and slept.
That was not the miracle... For the people who die of overdoes on aspirin die from liver failure from it trying to remove all of the drug. I was supposed to die about two days later… boom, drop on the floor… (That is what I was told later…)
Yet, that morning I had my first revelation… This Someone out there… this voice… it/He, whatever, had a purpose for me. I would from that day be on that search to find that purpose…
Mind you I had heard of Jesus at a bible camp… but as of yet, did not make a connection… Yet, God in Him mercy, introduced me to Him… I can only say at my younger age, I was chaos incarnate… and when I met Jesus, that storm began to calm… at times it still rages… I focus on the waves and curse Jesus for sleeping as the waves flood over the boat… I am rebuked… not in anger, but in His firmness and kindness as He will call me on my lack of faith, yet still calm that storm…
Life is strange… I found a Father through Jesus… I found a brother who tells me of my family…
My family is not religious anymore… we have found Love… and for some reason… religion seems to not stay around genuine love… it finds it curious and dangerous… Religion is like a boarding school. There is discipline and authority… and obedience is demanded… Fear is what fills the heart.
I am reminded of the words of 1 John 4: 18 – 19 There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.
We love because he first loved us.
As I walk in the Love the Father has lavished on me, I find I have been adopted into His family… I do not know all He is… nor all I will be, yet I do know that I will be like Him for I am now His son…
