When God Speaks…

Instead of asking does God speak, what if we asked, what do we do when God speaks.  I am convinced more and more of His desire to be known, explored —enjoyed. And I am also increasingly convinced of the “two-way street” reality of our relationship. It is not just me going to Him. Or Him pouring out on me. But instead it is a beautiful exchange, a passing of ideas and thoughts, a stirring in both hearts, mine and His.

In the same way that I am hopeful, even fervent, for His response, He is eager and awaiting mine. The word is giddy. Think excited kid before she opens up a present. Think a bride and groom before the pastor announces “the kiss.” Think grinning. Clapping hands. Raised eyebrows.  A giddy comment of  “Soooo, whatcha gonna do?” from Jesus.

This catches me off guard.  I love getting touches, kisses, insights, direction from the Lord.  But in recent months, these affections have  changed from a delightful act  to an incredible invitation.  My reactions have moved from “You are too sweet. Thanks, Lord,” to a head shaking, heart pounding, “You are joking, right Lord?”

Jesus is always inviting us into More. Holy Spirit is always revealing the Way into more. The question remains, how will we respond?

Just for fun, here is the crazy conversation He revealed on the way to the beach and home, via billboards.  If this isn’t crazy enough, look at the invitation to more that requires an answer.  And who, in their right mind, can refuse this Crazy Loving God??

Rest is required
Make outside the place to be
Fall in love all over again
Economic forecasts tend to be shovel ready
Change the way you advertise
Become a fan
Quality without question
Let me be your guide.
Why settle?
Unlock your future.
Whatever it takes. Wherever it takes us.
Uncommonly made. Uncommonly good.
Take home more. Be home more.
Going strong.
Ignite greatness.


“Sweetly Broken”

The Lord met me at the beach last week.  I am still in awe. Standing on the seashore I always get caught up in the seashells.  I just love them.  They are so beautiful and colorful. They are diverse and repeating. And for the most part, they are broken. That is why I only look for the perfect ones.

On the first day of the beach trip, I was so caught up in looking for the pretty shells that I had to stop, drop and roll.  Stop looking. Drop the handful and roll my eyes out on the water.

To which I immediately heard, “I am so glad you came.”

After I fumbled an apology for getting distracted by the lesser thing, the Lord and I started a dialogue about how seashells are really sea debris.  They are only indicators of life that once was. We talked for some time about learning to focus on the deeper life of God, the unseen reality of Him, instead of running from shell to shell on the shore. Instead of seeking the hidden living treasures of the ocean, I was captivated by the trash of the sea, the remnants and reminders of what lies in the depths.

“But, I still like them so much, ” I sighed. To which He replied, “I know, Me too. It is a way for you to see glimpses of My beauty.”

Fast forward to dinner that night with friends, and I was recounting the conversation. Then my friend Dana offered to read a poem that the Lord had given her.  I sat there stunned as she read about the beauty of the broken shells like the beauty of broken lives, because life pours out when both are broken.

So the next day on my walk with God, I kept hearing the song, “Sweetly Broken” (by Jeremy Riddle). I asked the Lord what He was trying to say about that song and the conversation from the night before. And Wow. I saw a broken shell in the shape of a heart. I thought the Lord was just trying to love on me, but He told me to keep looking. So I found another. And another. And many, many more.

“What is this, Lord?”

“You were looking for perfect shells. But you can only find the hearts when they are broken.”

“Like people,” I said. “Like me,” I whispered.

“Yes, sweetly broken,” He said.

I began to weep. On the beach. In front of everyone, but I didn’t care. I thought about my own story. And the story of so many women and men. And you only see our hearts when we are broken. Like our Lord, we saw His heart when it was broken.

And His life has poured out on us, and our lives on others. Sweetly broken, the aroma of Christ. Hallelujah, what a God…