All I Want Is...

Tomorrow is my birthday. Since I was not able to go to the Abbey of Gethsemani for my annual retreat in October, I planned on going for my birthday. I would not be able to stay at the monastery, but I would spend the entire day there on Saturday and stay in a nearby hotel Friday and Saturday night. That was the plan.

I told God I only wanted one thing for my birthday. I wanted to hear from Him. I didn't just want to hear from Him, though. I wanted to HEAR from Him...loud and clear...no mistaking it is Him talking to me...something profound...more profound than the other times I have heard from Him at Gethsemani...this time without having to get lost in the woods first!

Not too much to ask, right?

When I told Brad what I wanted, he asked, "What if you don't like what He has to tell you?"

I had already given this a lot of thought. While reading the book my sister gave me entitled Mended, the author told a story about Sodom and Gomorrah and  Lot. I really don't remember what her point was. I think it had to do with Lot's wife looking back and turning into salt.  But let me tell you what I got out of it.

The angel of God told Lot to go to the mountain. Don't look back and don't stop in the valley. God just told him not to stop in the valley, but Lot mentioned a city in the valley and asked if he could stop there. God consented.

God told Lot to go to the mountain, but Lot wanted to follow God only to a point. He left his home as directed and never looked back, but he failed to fully follow God. What was waiting for Lot in the mountains? What blessing was he missing because he chose not to fully go along with God's plan?

I didn't want to miss out, no matter what God had to say. I just wanted Him to say something! I have really been trying to be still and quiet in His presence, listening for Him. Although being still is not that difficult, quieting my mind is. I have not heard anything since He told me to wait and I thought a word or two shouted from Him to me would make a glorious birthday present.

Last night, I packed my bag and explained to Bailey that I was leaving for a few days, but would return soon and that Uncle Mike would take good care of her while I was gone.

Before going to bed, I started to feel a bit light headed and very nauseated. This morning, I finished packing and put my bags in my car before coming to work, but I was still feeling miserable. As the morning dragged on, I began to feel worse and worse.

As I talked with Mike and later Danny and Terry over breakfast, I thought maybe this was God's way of telling me not to go out of town. Maybe this was God's way of telling me I did not need to go to Gethsemani to hear Him speak. Maybe, like that post making it's way around the Internet of the man complaining about all the obstacles in his day and Jesus explaining how those obstacles kept the Angel of Death away, maybe like him, God does not want me traveling. There is a 70% chance of rain this weekend.

Whatever the reason, I was still a bit upset about the prospect of my plans not working out. I felt like just going back to bed, but I didn't want to spend my birthday in bed. I wanted to spend it in Gethsemani. I wanted to hear Him speak to me.

As I walked from my office to the location of a program I was leading for the students, I asked God to tell me what to do. Do I go ahead and go? Do I get a hotel closer to home, but just get out of town? Do I just stay home, rest, and plan my trip for a time when I can spend more time there and enjoy it more when there is better weather?

His answer was quick and simple. "You know the answer," he told me. "Yes." I responded. I will stay home.

I still hope for some profound moment, but at least He is speaking to me now. The other night, He explained something to me and this morning, He explained my dream.

The last thing God told me was to wait. Wait for what? I'm not sure, but I knew I needed to learn to wait. The other day, He explained that there is a difference between being patient and waiting. Being patient means I will eventually get what I want. Waiting does not guarantee I will get what I want. It simply means I should not act presumptuously. I must not move until He tells me to. I must not act until He tells me how.

Every once in a while, I have a dream about a house. Sometimes, it's my grandma Valdevia's old house. Sometimes, it is my old carriage house. Sometimes, it's a house I have never seen before. Each time, I am moving into this house. The house is bigger, longer than it appears from the front of the house. The front part is fixed up and obviously lived in. A kitchen divides the lived in part of the house and the back part, the closed off part. The back part of the house is very spacious and has a lot of potential. The further back you go, though, the more in disarray it becomes, almost frightening in it's rundown state.

Last night, it was the old green house I was living in and fixing up. I was walking by it and noticed just the slightest hint of black smoke coming out from the roof. Assuming the house was abandoned and afraid it had caught fire, I let myself in to investigate.

The inside resembled the old carriage house. I walked up the stairs to the source of the smoke and walked into what used to be my bedroom. There was a man sleeping in a bed. I startled him awake. I explained my reason for being there. He thanked me. Several others woke up and started climbing out of the bed (nothing inappropriate was going on. They had simply been asleep). A young woman walked up the stairs to find out what all the commotion was. I explained what was going on and apologized once again.

I asked her how many people lived there and asked why they weren't concerned about the mold problem. She invited me downstairs and showed me the improvement they had made in the kitchen. They had cleaned and repaired the mold problems.

As I looked around, I noticed that the mold problem wasn't the only thing they fixed. They completely remodeled the entire place. It was huge inside and looked fantastic. I told her how I used to live there and asked if I could take a look around and see the changes they made. She consented. I walked around the place by myself, admiring the improvements. There were people everywhere, all young, but all happy and all had taken part in the renovations. As I walked around, I started to get jealous. This was supposed to be my home. These were supposed to be my improvements. The place seemed so small and bland when I lived there!

I asked if they had done anything to the back of the house. She said not yet. I asked if I could take a look there as well and she said yes. The back of the house was still run down, but they had started renovating. The old, worn, falling apart pieces were removed and the areas had been cleaned and repaired. All they had to do now was rebuild and decorate. A lot of work still needed to be done, but a lot of work had already been done. As I saw these improvements, my jealousy intensified. They did what I could not. I gave up on the house, thinking it was worthless, the cause of my sickness. Someone else had taken what I discarded and made something beautiful, fun, and functional out of it.

While getting ready for work this morning, I wondered about the dream. Didn't think much about it, but God gave me the interpretation without me asking.

The house is me, my soul. The front part of the house is the place where I am, where I feel comfortable. It is the life I have made for myself. It is my valley.

The back part of the house is my potential. It is the wasteland of my hopes and dreams, the gifts from God that I have yet to fully appreciate and use. It is the mountain.

God told me two things. One, if I do not use the gifts and talents God gave me, He will give them to someone else who will use them.

Two, I cannot do it alone. I fixed up my living quarters my way and it is comfortable, nice, and neat. All those young men and women in my dream worked together and made something magnificent out of their combined living space.

Profound! I covet the gifts God gave me and I do not want to lose them.

What now?

Silence.

Wait.

Is this my birthday present? Will He tell me more tomorrow? I don't know.

Wait.