I dated him because we worked well together and he was interesting and fun; I married him because he was a good, godly Christian that I could confidently follow and partner with.
Our common ground was music, and the glue between us was deeply rooted faith, and the Holy Spirit that kept us always united. He was a guy to take home to Mama, the good guy, the Christian guy. And it wasn’t just superficial – he meant it wholeheartedly. He always tries to do the right thing.
“‘Be still and know.’ Listen for that still, small voice,” I would remind him.
“God just doesn’t seem to speak to me like that,” he would lament.
“Still your heart.”
“I don’t know if I can do that.”
“Turn inward. I mean, I don’t know – I can just…feel it. Can’t you?”
“I don’t understand what you’re talking about!”
It was a major frustration of his. It seemed that I and many of his friends had this connection with the Holy Spirit of God that he wasn’t granted. We could tap into that in any given moment and have guidance and clarity, while he was left in the dark. He describes his connection with God as feeling like he was locked in a dark room most of the time, and then every once in a great rare while, the door is opened and clear, bright light floods the room while God tells him whatever he needs right then, and then the door is closed and it all goes back to being a dark, empty room again. We always just figured that God speaks to different people in different ways (which is still probably true).
Then one day, some weeks ago now, he encountered Christ in a new way. He was directly approached by Christ, though not in a literal vision or literally audibly, but directly and clearly, just the same. The Spirit came to him and challenged him: submit or reject. Michael struggled because he wanted to reject that Spirit, but it was too strong to deny or ignore. He had to accept. This happened while he was on the phone with our friend Tim, who is good at asking the right questions. Michael describes it as having had piles of garbage cluttering the path of Christ, but Tim’s challenging questions helped move the garbage aside, clearing the path. One of the interesting things about that is the fact that much of the garbage was the Christian “foundation” that we try so hard to lay down and firmly establish. It seems that for him, it was the very thing that got in the way of the true Spirit of Christ.
Michael points out that he had been trying to facilitate that encounter as best as he could for most of his life, to no avail. He tried to intellectually understand God and parse out Christian doctrine and come to better understand and know Christ that way. He tried to pour his whole heart into it and care in all the right things. He believed. He believed wholeheartedly. But still, that encounter wasn’t presented. That’s because he was (to put it in his own words) reaching with both his intellectual arm, and his emotional arm, and those arms weren’t long enough; it was wholely spiritual, and the spiritual arm was the only thing that could actually make that contact. And he couldn’t facilitate it himself at all; Christ had to be the one to approach Michael, not the other way around. Believing alone simply wasn’t ever going to be enough.
Since then (even the very next day, which was the first I was able to speak with him about it), he has been thrilled to have that connection. “I get it now! I get what you meant!” For the first time, he finally has that prayer without ceasing, that ability to just tap right into it.
It’s pretty cool that my husband can finally know Christ.
linnealien 