I gained a wonderful insight this week into one of the ways God interacts with us. My experience with God was not planned nor initiated by me. Likewise, it was brief; ending almost as suddenly as it began.
It occurred Thursday, early in the morning, as the sun brightened my bedroom just enough to rouse me from my sleep. At first I resented the intrusion, for I had spent the first half of the week running in 20 different directions and had cut back on my sleep to accommodate my list of “To Dos.”
When I noticed I had awakened ahead of my alarm clock, I relished the thought of 30 more minutes of sleep, for I did not feel completely rested or energetic. Then again, if I rallied earlier I would be one step ahead of the schedule I had fashioned for myself the night before.
It was at this very moment, feeling weary and indecisive, that I heard the chorus:
Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine!
Oh, what a foretaste of glory divine!
Heir of salvation, purchase of God,
Born of His Spirit, washed in His blood.
This is my story, this is my song,
Praising my Savior all the day long;
This is my story, this is my song,
Praising my Savior all the day long.
I sat up in bed and smiled. It was one of those occasional moments I fondly refer to as my “left field” experiences. They are quick, intense, and invigorating. Surprising, insightful, and energizing. They are also verbal, but I cannot physically hear them with my ears and if someone else were to see me they would not hear the sound I was hearing. Rather, the sounds and the words I “hear” reach down into my soul.
Best of all, left field experiences are soothing. That is because I have come to understand that it is God’s spirit moving and refreshing me when I lack the ability to move and refresh myself. The refreshment frequently comes in the form of a hymn.
You may recognize this simple chorus. It was penned by Fanny Crosby, an American hymn writer and poetess, blinded by illness as an infant, but who enjoyed a long marriage, a life of service, and who wrote over 8,000 hymns. While the words of her hymns give a portrait to who she was as a woman and Christian, so does the story of a preacher who sympathetically remarked to her, “I think it is a great pity that God did not give you sight when He showered so many other gifts upon you.”
It is said she responded, “Do you know that if at birth I had been able to make one petition, it would have been that I should be born blind?”
“Why?” asked the surprised clergyman.
“Because when I get to heaven, the first face that shall ever gladden my sight will be that of my Savior!”
But when I hear music that praises God, when I sense an urgency to respond with prayer, when I detect something alarming and worrisome, and when I experience a “left field” moment, I know God is there. Deep inside. Teaching and reminding me, often through the encouragement of friends, that He is near.
There is nothing scary or strange about this relationship with God. It is amazing and private. It reminds me of a great promise God makes in the Bible: that when we are scared, tired, confused, not thinking clearly or in any way incapacitated, God’s spirit will move and work within us, on our behalf. And the great comfort of such a concept comes to me when I learn of great suffering that inevitably scares me, breaks my heart, and forces me to ask God about His plan. God is there at all moments. He is a God that not only nudges us to live better and higher, but also comforts us when we desire a heavenly touch.
