God Is There, But He Is Silent, part 1

classicfoam.jpg I was born again again while I waited tables at a coffee shop in a hotel that is connected to holidays.

You know what I mean.

The whole process had started in another story, the one about Shellie, that I’m saving for another time. In this part of the story I was reading C.S. Lewis’ “Mere Christianity” and trying to score some good tips. I was taking all the hours I could get then trying to save up money and trying to figure out what to do with the rest of my life. Anthropology was still my main interest but the whole God thing was starting to mess with my life more and more. Between school and work there wasn’t much left but I found that I was talking to myself less and talking to this God I was getting to know more and more. I was talking to God at work, on my way to work, at school (and not just before big tests anymore) and pretty much everywhere I went.

I was getting over a girl at the time but in the process of losing the girl I think I’d discovered my soul. It was a strange time but one constant was this growing conversation I was having with God.

Did I lose you there? Did I lose you at ‘conversation’?

I really felt like God was talking to me. Not a Joan of Arc kind of dialogue. He wasn’t telling me to rally the masses against the Saxons or even the Democrats. But it was still a conversation, even a playfulness I felt as I found this God taking a foot for every inch I’d give him in my life. It was an interesting time, a fun time, a weird time. I’d read my Bible and it felt like God had been spying on my life which was both uncomfortable and comforting all at the same time. I’d pray and it seemed like the things I talked to him about suddenly popped up that very day. Some things were there for me to do something about, some things were just answers to requests. As I’m typing that I can hear with my 25 years later ears just how crazy that all sounds. But I’d swear to it. That was my experience.

I was given a little booklet. “My Heart, Christ’s Home”. It made sense to me. I connected with the little parable and I could identify with the man in the story who invited Jesus home and then went through major renovations. Not from going ‘by the book’ but through ongoing relationship with the main character of ‘the book’. I was given another little booklet, a Bible study, I’d do a bit of it every morning and talk to God and was pretty sure he was talking back about things I needed to hear. One of the things that he started getting me to think about was going to work for him full-time. I’d already made a compromise and thought I might go into “Biblical Archaeology” (looking for remains from historical accounts in the Bible) which would be a little something for God and a little something for me. God, however, seemed to be pushing for a different deal. I decided to check out this thing called Bible College.

I got some addresses and started mailing for school catalogues (calendars if you’re in Canada). I looked them over, or as I learned to say, “prayerfully considered them”. There were good solid reasons not to choose some of the schools. Too far (4 years in India, hmmm). Too expensive (“Help us build our new dorm and administration building…”). Too close (“Seriously Mom, you don’t have to drive up ever evening to check if I’ve got clean laundry, seriously.”). Too small (…where our teacher to student ratio is 1:1…). In the end I settled on a “not small enough to call the campus a compound” school in southwestern Missouri. I liked the catalogue, liked what the school offered and the hot girl pictured on page 16 didn’t hurt any either. I also had this feeling or sense, whatever you want to call it, that God was cool with my choice.

My first week of classes I learned I had no idea what I was talking about…

…to be continued…


About brianmpei

Stumbling towards what comes next.
This entry was posted in God, Life, Meaning, Rambling. Bookmark the permalink.

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