When God Speaks

“Let me tell you my story,” offered the well-dressed man, his wife at his side in the church auditorium.  If the story included the wonderful way that the Gospel had brought him to salvation, I would be very grateful indeed to hear.  If, on the other hand, it was just another experience of something unusual—an alien encounter, for instance—I would rather not waste my time.  But since I could have no way of knowing whether I would enjoy the story or not until I had heard it, I indicated to the man to proceed.

“I was lying in bed in my house one night when something awakened me at 2:00 in the morning.”  Oh great!  This is not the kind of story that I usually like.  “I got out of bed and began to head downstairs because I saw a light coming from the patio.  When I got midway down the stairs, this feeling came over me and I knew unmistakably that God loved me.”

And?  I waited to hear the part where the story would turn to realization of sin and turning to Christ, but the story was done.  This circumstance alone formed the basis for this man’s assurance of salvation.  In his mind, God spoke to him that night in the most definite way.

Now for my story.  Not about my salvation, but about how God speaks, really speaks, to me.  As I was alone praying one day, I began to reflect with disappointment on my shortcomings, my failures.  There were so many times when I had failed to do what I should have done or done what I should not have done.  In prayer, I began to bring these up to God when He simply shut me down.  If you don’t think that the God of heaven does this from time to time, take another look at the Book of Joshua.  God shut down my prayer because it was His turn to speak.  He reminded me that when I was yet without strength, in due time, Christ died for me, one of the ungodly.  He continued by reminding me that scarcely for a righteous man would one die.  No matter though: I was not righteous.  Yet, peradventure for a good man some would even dare to die.  Still of no consequence, for I was not good.  But God commendeth His love toward me in that while I was yet a sinner, Christ died for me.  God had spoken, and though the voice was not audible even to me, there could have been nothing more real.

Recently, I have come to call these types of experiences in my life—and yes, there have been others when God spoke definitely to me—Emmaus Road experiences.  The name comes from a location casually mentioned in Luke 24.  Read it.  And start looking for your own Emmaus Road experiences.