Preface

Ask anyone today to tell you a story about an encounter they’ve had with God, and chances are you’ll be met with a dumbfounded look like a deer in headlights. But ask that same person to tell you about the strangest thing they’ve ever experienced, something they cannot explain, and a story will often unfold in captivating detail. They might not think it’s a God story they’re sharing, but chances are it is if it’s laced with mystery, coincidence, or bewilderment.

Ancient civilizations attributed unexplainable situations to the actions of the gods. They were attuned to the spiritual realm, which was very real to them. In today’s world, however, we rely on science and logic to define the unexplainable. We attribute success to our own hard work. We write opportunities off as luck. We define chance meetings as serendipitous. Has the pendulum swung too far to the other side? Is it possible that we give logic too much credit and God too little?

Theologian and New Testament scholar John Piper tweeted in 2012, God is always doing 10,000 things in your life, and you may be aware of three of them. Such a profound statement begs the question, If that’s true, why don’t we hear him all the time? It’s not because God speaks a different language; he speaks our language. And it’s not because we lack the desire to hear him. We all want to hear from God. I believe it’s because we are listening with the wrong ears and looking with the wrong eyes. We evaluate the world around us with our five human senses and our logical heads but rarely with our spiritual senses and surrendered hearts.

I have had the gracious honor of hearing God’s audible voice several times in my life, and each time was a unique experience. God also speaks without using language. In the absence of words, I have felt his presence, experienced his nudges, and heard him speak through others. I don’t write this to boast but to testify to the mysterious proclivity God uses to communicate with each one of us in unexpected and creative ways.

That is what this book is about. Together we will look at how God has spoken to people in the past, how he speaks to people today, and how he may be trying to speak to you right now. I believe it is possible for those who desire to hear from God to do so, and I pray you are willing to try. There is an invisible world all around us waiting to be noticed and an omnipotent God waiting to be heard.

Lean into the chapters ahead, allow the stories to nurture your spiritual eyes and ears, submit to the Holy Spirit’s promptings, and enjoy the journey.

Chapter 1

The Invitation: View the World

Through a Divine Lens

For this people’s heart has become calloused;

they hardly hear with their ears,

and they have closed their eyes.

Otherwise they might see with their eyes,

hear with their ears,

understand with their hearts and turn,

and I would heal them.

—Matthew 13:15

With just a shovel and a hoe, I tilled and fertilized a strip of land on the side of the garage for a small vegetable garden. This was a big deal for me. Though I was raised on a modest farm in upstate New York, I was the child who preferred to stay indoors cleaning and baking. Therefore, I now had to rely on the Internet for gardening advice rather than personal experience.

Peas had to be planted weeks earlier than other seeds because they germinate better in colder weather. Zucchini needed to be planted on small mounds of dirt with plenty of space to spread out. The teeny lettuce and kale seeds would need to go in the ground next to the wall, where they would get the afternoon shade.

To my delight, every seed sprouted right on schedule, with peas and lettuce leading the way. String beans and small cucumbers came next. Later, the zucchini, squash, and tomato plants yielded yellow flowers, and I watched in hopeful expectation as blossoms turned into small vegetables. Everything was producing just as I had planned—except for the tomatoes. Though lush with leaves, the yellow blossoms had disappeared, and nothing visible had taken their place. I checked the Internet for answers but found nothing useful.

I continued to water my growing garden each morning, harvesting the vegetables that had matured and pulling up the weeds that threatened to choke them. My bushy tomato plants were filling out their cages nicely with plump green leaves, yet there was still no sign of the little red fruit. Frustrated with their performance, I barely glanced in their direction as I weeded and watered the plants around them.

The day came when I had finally had enough. If the tomato plants weren’t going to be productive, they had to go so I could use the space to plant something that would produce. I marched up to those delinquent bushes and peered intently among the lush vines.

What was this? They were bursting with fruit! Each vine was blanketed with dozens of small green tomatoes that perfectly matched the color of the leaves. I had failed to notice them because I was looking for red tomatoes, like those found in the grocery store. Green tomatoes had never crossed my mind. Therefore, I could not see what I wasn’t looking for.

Look Around

How often do you fail to notice what is right in front of you because your eyes are not seeking the right thing? Likewise, how often do you fail to notice God because you aren’t looking for him? He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him (John 1:10).

I’ve always been perplexed as to why the synagogue leaders in Jesus’ day didn’t accept him as God. The Old Testament is full of prophecies that point to a suffering Messiah who would be born of a virgin in Bethlehem and ride into town on a donkey. It’s not like the Jewish nation wasn’t looking for the Messiah because they were. The problem was: they were looking for the wrong guy. They expected the Messiah to arrive as a king, not as a baby. They expected him to be a conqueror, not a carpenter. They expected him to fight, not to die. Jesus did not fit the mold they had in mind. Therefore, they couldn’t see him.

I’d like to claim that if I had lived in ancient Jerusalem, possessed a good understanding of the Scriptures, and witnessed miracle after miracle, I would have recognized Jesus as the Son of God. At least, that’s what I’d like to think. Hindsight, however, is always 20/20.

Though Christians today declare Jesus as Lord and Savior, many forget that he is still with us, in us, and among us. He is living. He is active. He is present. The early disciples walked alongside God as Jesus in bodily form, and we get to carry the Spirit of God inside of us.

God’s handiwork is everywhere. The trees and flowers. The sun and the clouds. The mountains and rivers. The birds of the air and the fish of the sea. All too often, we take these things for granted. We look at a stunning sunset and marvel at its beauty without attributing the artwork to God. We watch flowers bloom in our gardens and pat ourselves on the back for bringing them to life. We marvel at the birds that come to our feeders without a second thought as to why they appeared. Every good and perfect gift is from above (James 1:17). The creator of the universe is responsible for every good thing, yet we fail to give him the credit he is due. Simply put, we overlook God.

I believe there are three reasons for this. One, we are distracted by life. We become so overwhelmed with responsibilities and commitments that we fail to acknowledge the giver of life who is in the trenches with us. Two, we are rigid about our beliefs. We hold tight to the Christian principles on which we were raised and neglect to look beyond the teachings of our religious denomination for something more. Three, we are complacent. We settle for comfortable rather than extraordinary because we either fear the journey or don’t want to risk losing control.

Do any of these resonate with you? Let’s look at each a little closer.

One: Distracted Faith

Distractions are plentiful: family commitments, sports, entertainment, work or school, social media, personal struggles, and cultural responsibilities (just to name a few). But God is in all these things. If you want to see him, invite him to participate.

I have found that the more I acknowledge God’s presence, the more I recognize when he shows up. It helps when I follow the advice of the apostle Paul to Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18).

Rejoicing helps me turn away from anger, control, and disappointment. For example, instead of complaining when my husband leaves his shoes in the middle of the room, where I will undoubtedly trip over them, I rejoice that I have a kind and supportive husband. Rather than pointing out his flaws, I just move his shoes, and this creates a happier home for both of us. Rejoicing with a glass-half-full attitude reminds me that God is good.

Praying continually is impossible, but turning it up a notch isn’t. For example, whenever I hear of someone’s misfortune, pass a stranger who appears distraught, or watch a sad report unfold on the nightly news, I say a little prayer. This makes me more aware of my surroundings and invites God into the moment. And instead of saying to someone, I will pray for you, which may or may not happen, I immediately pray over them then and there. Working prayer into opportunities as they arise reminds me that God is always present.

I’m grateful that the apostle Paul did not instruct us to give thanks for all circumstances but rather in all circumstances. An attitude of gratitude demonstrates our willingness to trust God when life seems uncertain. For example, when I suffered a stroke in my early fifties, I made it a habit to thank God for the many blessings in my life as I healed. Keeping my focus on God’s promises rather than my own affliction reminded me that God had everything under control.

There is nothing you must give up to make space for rejoicing, prayer, and gratitude. Just include them in your daily distractions. Then watch how God shows up and shows off.

Two: Rigid Faith

I was raised to believe that the faith my family practiced was the right one. Because I knew nothing about the beliefs of any other religion or denomination, I was unable to verbalize why I believed what I believed. All I could tell you was that every other faith had it wrong. Now that I belong to a different church than the one in which I grew up, I see that perhaps I was wrong. Some beliefs become clearer, stronger, or more authentic when we take the time to see them from a different point of view.

During the Bush-Gore presidential election of 2000, I asked my fifth-grade students to select the candidate they wanted to see win. Their homework was to watch a presidential debate on TV, read two articles about their candidate’s stance on major issues, and speak to three adults who supported their choice. Along the way, they were required to take notes that would demonstrate why they supported one candidate over the other. These notes would be used at the end of the week to help them defend their choice during a classroom debate. They were stoked!

The kids came to the table prepared and passionate. There was yelling, targeted verbal attacks, name-calling, and some disrespect for the moderator—much like an actual presidential debate. After closing comments, the students cast their votes in a mock election.

Before sharing the results, I asked the question, Did any of you change your vote based on what you heard during the debate?

Not one hand was raised. No one had been swayed. Had they been listening?

I then instructed my students to repeat the process the following week. This time, however, they were to gather information about their rival and come to the table ready to defend the candidate they currently did not support. Silence and blank stares soon morphed into groans and anger. How could I ask them to change their stance?

I wasn’t. I was merely asking them to step into someone else’s shoes for a while to see things from a different perspective.

The students were wary on the day of our second debate. A week wasn’t long enough for them to find their footing, and they entered the classroom with trepidation. The rules of the debate were the same as