So, I get this message in prayer that Jesus is going to visit me. I think to myself, ‘Eh, that wasn’t God…or was it?’ I figure it was just me “missing” God and confusing my thoughts with His voice. Then I get a phone call from a trustworthy and very devoted man of God in the music scene. He’s like, “Bro, this is really weird, but I think I have a word from the Lord for you. I can’t get it out of my mind and, even though it’s kind of awkward to make this phone call, I have to be obedient.”
Before he even finishes his thought, I already know in my heart what he’s going to say. Sure enough, he says, “God is going to visit you, Doug. I don’t know what that means, but I believe He told me to tell you, ‘Make time.'” He pauses and there is some nervous silence in the air and then kind of chuckles. “I hope I didn’t freak you out, man!”
I start to answer and my word comes out in a tear and a choke. I pause and then my shaking voice quietly affirms to him that I think God is “up to something” and I thank him for calling.
After I hang up I look at my calendar and realize that ‘deadlines were made for me; not me for deadlines.’ This chain of events is happening right in the middle of a magazine deadline and, even though it’s very inconvenient, how awesome is it to get visited in the year 2010 by the Son of God? I figured it would be a conversation, like a prayer. There is NO WAY I was expecting a physical manifestation. ‘That sort of thing is for weirdos,’ I think. I email my wife and tell her that I’m moving this deadline back one week. I figure that if God is going to interrupt my deadline that it’s worth it and I better make room.
When I read my Bible the next day I see verses like “Zacheus, I must stay at your house today…” and it jumps out at me in a new way. Later that morning I see a maroon SUV drive by the road out by the HM Ranch. I am glad to get a visit from a dear friend nicknamed “Tornado.” The car turns down our road and I know that I’ll get a knock at the door in a few minutes as she turns in the driveway, parks and walks to the door. I finish typing out an email I was working on and get ready to head to the front door when I hear her car horn blast solid a couple times. ‘This is unusual,’ I think. She’s never honked before, but often times when I drive past her house I play “Smoke on the Water” with long and timed horn blasts. She likes to have fun, so I assume she’s being silly. Usually, this would send my dog Biscuit into barking fits. He was wagging his tail in expectation, but not barking like he does at a delivery guy or even seeing someone he knows, like Tornado.
When I get to the door, though, I can’t believe me eyes. In fact, I do one of those “double takes” that you see in comedies. I’m staring at a six-foot tall male figure in a long single-piece white robe.
The Son of God has come to my house! Nothing in the world could prepare me for this event and I realize that 90% of those reading this as I type it in my blog will even believe me. It’s too crazy. One of my first thoughts is to call KXAN or KVUE or any local Austin news station and get them out here to see this, but then I realize that this visit is somehow for me. He motions me outside and He doesn’t even have to tell me that it’s so we can take a walk. I start to think about the future and how I’ll look back on this supernatural event. I’ll probably never look at this property again in the same way. I can imagine re-tracing each step He takes as we’ll walk around the place. I see Tornado’s car parked in the driveway, but she stays seated in the front, marveling and praying for me (I assume). She waves and sticks her head out the window, “You two have a good time!”
I have imagined what seeing Jesus face-to-face would be like. I always imagine it in heaven, though. But I see His eyes look into mine and pierce my heart. It’s easy to imagine pure love coming from Him without a word being spoken, just knowing that He’s looking deep into my soul, knowing everything about me and loving me unconditionally. As we head towards the West and I open the gate towards the part of our land where our neighbor’s livestock graze, I hear a man crying. Jesus looks at me and I instantly realize that He’s somehow letting me tune into what He’s hearing.
It’s Eddie, my neighbor up the hill a few hundred yards away. He’s beating his chest as He weeps, “Have mercy on me, Lord! I’ve failed you so miserably. I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”
Jesus glances at me and says, “Pardon me,” and He takes off.
I stand there for awhile and I realize that He might be gone awhile. I don’t hear the cries anymore, but I understand the verse in my favorite Psalm (34), which says, “God is near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” This is the condition of my poor neighbor. Something has gone wrong and he was crying out to the Lord, because he desperately needed Him.
I envy that heart – that attitude. I’ve had it before, but now I find myself in a “got it together” kind of smugness. I figured Jesus wanted to spend time with me, because He loved and appreciated my heart. But the condition of my heart was nowhere near the desperate cries of my neighbor. Something about that heart condition was attractive to Jesus. It was almost as if His ears picked up when He heard those cries. It was very easy to be jealous of my neighbor at this point. He was fellowshipping with the One!
Tornado leaned out and told me she was going to drive over there to wait, in order to give Him a ride to His next destination. She’s done some “running” and cooking for various youth ministry events, like Acquire the Fire, and I imagine that because she treated each and every person like they were special that she was being rewarded with this very supernatural and spectacular visitation from God.
‘Boy, oh boy, would we have something to talk about and share together in the future,’ I thought as she pulled out of the driveway, going super slow as not to run into the gate on her way up and out of the driveway.
I went back to work, but it was hard to get much done. Checking emails was like be a robot, clicking and typing away, but not really “being there,” if you know what I mean. I had to ask myself, ‘Will I ever tell anyone about this? Will anyone in their right mind believe me?’ I figured it was only a matter of time before He came back and we picked up where we left off.
But He didn’t return. My wife called at 6:30 and asked me where I was. It jolted me out of my fog. I apologized and tried to figure out a way to explain why I was late. Jesus didn’t come back. He was so into being with that brokenhearted person that it was easy to put someone like me – someone who had his theology together and was “doing fine” – on hold. There’d be time to fellowship with me later…not to mention the invisible fellowship in the Spirit that I can enjoy any time.
At first I was devastated. I was stood up by the Lord. Then I realized that it wasn’t right for me to be offended or jealous. I was special and I did have His love, but I was not in desperate need of Him. Something about this eased the pain. It was like I was learning a lesson. I hope I am…
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