Chapter One

Chapter 1

Different people react in different ways the first time they hear the Voice of the Almighty. I rolled my eyes. As it turns out, it wasn’t precisely the One True God that spoke to me that fateful afternoon in my college dorm room. It was a voice I’d never heard before, and at the time, the only concept I had that could fit the power, wisdom, and majesty that seemed to emanate from Its words was “God,” but I would eventually realize that description was incomplete. Over the next 15 years, I would begin to hear that voice more regularly and would one day come to recognize it as my own. My Sacred Self. That divine essence that dwells within each of us. But for that afternoon, I thought God had finally answered my prayers. He was speaking to me. And when He spoke, I scoffed, rolled my eyes, and said, “Whatever, God.”

I had been praying at the time. I was praying exactly the way I hadn’t been taught to pray. There were no carefully measured words, I wasn’t kneeling, nor were my hands folded. My head was not bowed in respect, and I didn’t begin my prayer with “Dear God…” Instead, I opened with a much more genuine expression of my feelings in the moment, screaming, “What do you want from me?!”

I didn’t know if there was something terribly wrong with me or with God or with the Bible or with the whole world. Nothing made sense, everything felt wrong, and the more I tried to make sense of my seeming meaningless life, the more frustrated I became. Let me give you some backstory…

I didn’t have comic books growing up. Instead, I found my heroes in the Bible. My childhood imagination and admiration focused on these giants of men that tamed lions, walked on water, slew impossible enemies, and ascended into the heavens in chariots made of flame. And the more I read the incredible stories in this incredible book that I was told was The Absolutely True Word of God, the more I wanted to be like them. The more I wanted to be a Christian.

And so, an image of a True Christian began to take shape in my mind. The True Christian spoke with God. Not to God, but with God. And God spoke back. To the True Believer, God would appear. He’d reveal himself in a burning bush. He’d invite you to walk upon sacred ground. If you were a True Believer, you could audibly hear His voice. You could see and talk with angels. You battled demons and drove them from your midst. You healed the sick, gave sight to the blind. You walked on water. Like Paul, you were caught up into the heavens, out of body, and beheld wonders. You had visions. Dreams. You moved mountains. You wore the Garb of Christ and poured His Radiance into the world, saving sinners, feeding the hungry, and caring for the poor. You sold all your possessions and cast your cares into the loving arms of the Father. He provided. He guided you. He lifted you up. With His Grace, verily, you could rise above the Earth, you could rise into the heavens. You could fly.

That was what it meant to be a Christian. So week after week, my mind filled with divine imagination, I went to church, looking for the “how.” How do I hear God? How do I see the angelic realm? How do I perform miracles? How do I make my life meaningful and worthy?

And week after week, I left the church feeling like I was still missing something. I looked at the Christians around me, studied them, looking for clues. I delved into the Bible, reading and rereading every word, but the answer or the secret or whatever it was that I was looking for always eluded me. I asked questions of my teachers and ministers, but quickly learned that they didn’t like my questions. I grew to hate the expression, “the Lord works in mysterious ways.” It was all they’d say. I felt like something was terribly wrong and I was the only one who saw it. Where was God in all this? Where was the Power of Christ? We had this magnificent, behemoth building in which to worship the Almighty, but nobody seemed to worship. Sure, they sang the songs, they dropped their money in the offering plate, they shook hands with one another during the part of the service where you smile and shake hands with one another, but there was no joy. There was no aliveness. It was all a routine, a game, mechanical actions performed by mechanical men. And I was one of them. I knew I was no different than anyone else, I followed my cues, I performed well, and I was slowly going mad. I wanted to jump off the mountain. I wanted to trust my life to the Divine, take a leap of faith, and let It carry me to wherever It willed me be.

Isn’t this what they taught? Why wasn’t anyone doing it?! I would be happy to do whatever God commanded, all He had to do was tell me what to do. A few words from the clouds, the appearance of an angelic being, anything. “What am I supposed to be doing? What is my point in being here? What do you want from me? I’m graduating high school, now what? They tell me I’m supposed to go to college. What major do I choose? They’re giving me a full ride, that means it’s Your Will that I go, right?”

Silence.

“Okay, I’m going. I’m trusting that you’ll tell me if I’m making a mistake. I love you. I want to do Your Will. Guide me. I’m picking a major now. They all seem the same to me. I’ll pick chemical engineering, ok? That seems to at least make the most money starting out. Tell me if this is right? Just give me a sign. How about this, if a bird flies by right now, that means yes.”

Pause…

Nothing.

“Ok, if a bird flies by right… NOW… that means no.”

Pause.

Nothing.

And that was my relationship with God. I’d given Him my life. I preached his Name. I obeyed his commands. I turned down drinks at parties. I turned down girls at parties and resisted the promptings of my flesh. I prayed, fasted, tithed, went to church, led Bible studies, and searched. I always searched. What more is there? What am I missing?

A semester passed like this. I was breezing through engineering classes, but my spiritual frustration, like my other frustration, was always increasing. I wanted to live a Christian life, the ways the Christian heroes of old did. I wanted a life full of love and meaning. A life pleasing to God. I wanted to go out into the world and save it. My heart ached for those that suffered. I wanted to gather them up, embrace them, and share with them the loving acceptance of the Father. But I didn’t know how. I was supposed to go to college. Get a job. Work 9 to 5. Just like everyone else. Go to church on Sundays. Smile. Shake hands. Pray. Perform.

All this was going through my mind, slowly building each day. One part of me wanted to do well in school, live the life everyone expected me to live, and the other part of me wanted to trust God. To leap off the mountain and fly. To live a life of adventure and meaning. But I didn’t know how. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what God wanted from me.

So I cast myself on my bed one evening and screamed. My friends were happy, drinking, partying, having sex. They were having the time of their lives. I had given all that up to follow a God who offered no guidance. Who couldn’t be found in His Church. Who couldn’t even be found in His Book. Yet all of my faith was in Him. And I needed some answers.

So I screamed and wailed and gnashed my teeth at God. Righteous anger, loneliness, hurt, meaninglessness, confusion, frustration, and desperation erupted from my soul. I was about to give God a piece of my mind. I yelled at the Almighty. I begged and pleaded and screamed. I beseeched. I poured out my heart and my tears. I yelled into my pillow and beat the walls. I prayed like I had never prayed before.

I don’t know how long I carried on like this. My eyes were clinched so hard they hurt. I was pouring out all of the frustration that had been building up over many years. Thoughts and feelings that I’d never consciously expressed were rising to the surface and being dumped out before the Silent Lord. My pillow was soaked with sweat and tears. A fountain had been released, and I was experiencing it all. The meaninglessness. The futility of life. The desire for more. My prayers came from deep within. I prayed with pain, with heart, and with Soul. I prayed and cursed and wailed and sobbed about the injustice of the world. About the injustice of God. Why wouldn’t he answer me? Why wouldn’t he guide me? Why couldn’t I hear Him? I screamed about my sacrifices. I was giving up so much. Why was I denied the Kingdom? Why couldn’t I perform miracles? Why couldn’t I fly?

I let out a final cry and noticed I was shouting into a vast silence. Everything had stopped. The tears suddenly ran out. The thoughts ceased. The feelings were gone.  It was like I ran out of pain. I used it up. I poured it all out before God until it was gone, and in its place was silence. I had arrived somewhere. There was a great stillness that spread in all directions. Infinite space. It was calm and warm. It embraced me, wrapped itself around me. I was this small little mess of a creature, my face still wet with snot and tears, but Invisible Presence accepted me and took me in and cradled me. I was in a great formless void, but the void was teeming with potential and… presence.

I wasn’t alone.

A Voice spoke. Words that weren’t my own echoed throughout the Space and into my room.

“You can.”

I was confused for a moment. I can what? My past appeared before me like a tape. I rewound it a few minutes and realized the last thing I'd said was, "Why can't I perform miracles? Why can't I fly?"

I rolled my eyes and scoffed at the Almighty. This was the most absurd thing It could have said. I mean, I'd know if I could fly. Yet there He was, saying: “You can.”

I shook my head. “Whatever, God,” I replied to the disincarnate divinity.

“You really can. I’ll even prove it to you. Stand up on your bed.”

Something felt off.

“Okay, God... Sure...” I said hesitantly, but still rolling my eyes. I wiped my face and rose. “Look, I’m standing on my bed.”

“Now jump, and you’ll fly.”

It was a command. A strange feeling was descending, trying to take over, and confusion was working its way into my mind. I didn’t want to let God win, though. I was determined to prove Him wrong.

The glory of God was filling the room. Tingles of energy started moving in my body.

I jumped off the bed…

And gracefully, I landed with my feet on the floor. I may have given a sarcastic bow, having proven to the Almighty I couldn’t fly.

It was then that the heavens opened up. Light, Energy, Radiance, Power, Creation – they flooded into the room. I was standing on Holy Ground. The air was liquid and Glory crushed my body as I struggled to remain standing and breathe. The energy in my body began surging and pulsing, the Presence was so strong. I was standing on the floor but it felt like, had it wanted to, that Presence could have caught me up into the air. Or thrown me out the window without any effort at all.

It seemed to ask if it had my undivided attention.

"Yes," I tried to say. I couldn't move, but I was no longer rolling my eyes.

“WHEN YOU JUMP WITHOUT EXPECTING TO LAND, THEN YOU WILL FLY.”

I could feel the words resonate throughout my body and touch something deep within. They moved me, stirred me, and woke something up.

And then in the blink of an eye, the Presence was gone.

It was just me, alone in my dorm room, standing in the middle of the floor, mouth hanging open.

 - End of Chapter One -