The Conversation

Ever had a friend that only talked about themselves and never asked how you were? Annoying, right? God wants to engage in a conversation; He's not interested in a one-sided diatribe on your ills and woes. My Gramma used to correct her friends that answered the “How are you?” question with a litany of their ailments. It's boring and gets old! There’s the old adage that God gave us two ears and one mouth. The ratio is implied. We must listen to what He is saying. We must hear the voice within.

When you’re feeling brave, how about a true conversation? What does this look like, feel like, sound like? We learn best by modeling, so if you’ll forgive me, I’d like to demonstrate how conversation with Jesus developed for me. After reading the book, “The Shack” by William P. Young, I kept thinking of the idea of sitting down for breakfast with God, Jesus and Spirit. Could it ever really be that easy? Could I ever have a face-to-face conversation with my Lord and Savior?

Feeling the wind in my wings, I gave it a shot.

I have the blessing and curse of driving pretty good treks every day for my work; lots of windshield time to use. I thought as I drove, where would I have a conversation with Jesus? Mountain-side? Too woodsy. In my car? Too messy. Kitchen table sounded about right to me.

My mom always told me that I’m a better decorator than a cleaner. I guess that’s true because the first thing after deciding where we’d meet was to imagine what my kitchen looked like. Surprisingly enough, my mind wandered to my childhood babysitter’s kitchen. I laid out a blue, gingham tablecloth and put some flowers in a basket. My imaginary table sits next to a large window that overlooks a mountain. I was ready. I invited Jesus for a cup of joe.

You’ll never guess who showed up.

For the first few moments I was just praying like normal. You know the drill; ‘Dear God, Please be with ... And thank you for... and sorry that I...’ That wasn’t working; there was no connection. So, I just started rambling about my kids, my job, my needs and wants, etc. And then came THE feeling ... a “Jimminy Cricket”, inside-my-heart urging whispered, “Just talk to me.”

I remember kind of looking around at the road. Did I just say that to myself? I didn’t hear a voice -- I felt a voice.

I started really talking to Jesus, like I was chatting with my sister on the front porch drinking a Diet Coke. I “looked” at my Jesus sitting across the table from me and poured out my heart. I told Him how much I loved my kids and was so thankful for them. That made Him smile and I thought, 'He loves them so much too! Of course He does! He created them!' (Breakthrough!!) I talked more about my job and the trials and successes. He grinned again and I felt like He knew His plan for me was coming along just fine. There was a sense of pride from Jesus. I mean J-E-S-U-S. Not an imaginary friend or a memory - the man, the legend ... Jesus. I had a sense that we were communicating ... actively.

Next day, I tried again. I had to set up my kitchen space in order to prepare. I wanted to focus on where I was and I wanted to focus on Him. This time, I started in the middle of our conversation. It’s always awkward at first; nothing is automatic.  But because I’ve practiced so much it’s getting easier.

During one of these early coffee-klatches, I was telling Jesus AGAIN about my concerns of finding the right guy for me and my girls. I cannot tell you how many times and in how many ways I have prayed this particular prayer of "fill my cup, Lord" with the guy of my dreams. I kind of thought, 'Surely He’ll answer me now! We're having "coffee" for Pete's sake!' Then I got that inside urging again. But this time is said to ‘Listen’. I remember thinking, ‘Oh right. I’m supposed to listen as much as I talk to Him.’ Before I could finish my thought, scripture came to mind. Even though I had to find it in my Bible, it was not automatically committed to memory, this is what was given to me;

When they had finished eating, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?” “Yes, Lord,” he said, “you know that I love you.” Jesus said, “Feed my lambs.” Again Jesus said, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” He answered, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” Jesus said, “Take care of my sheep.” The third time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” Peter was hurt because Jesus asked him the third time, “Do you love me?” He said, “Lord, you know all things; you know that I love you.” Jesus said, “Feed my sheep.” (John 21: 15-17)

I had to think about this for a while. I even waited until I got home that day. What was He trying to tell me?

My gut was telling me that Jesus was kind of tired of the same old question from me; ‘Where’s my man?’ I had tried so many times to convince Jesus that this is what my life needed. ‘Not for me, Jesus...for my girls.’ ‘You tell us you want us to have a mate.’ ‘I’m lonely and everyone else is doing it.’ Blah, blah, blah. I think Jesus was saying, “Stop thinking about it. Go -- take care of my sheep. Do my work. Enough.”

Harsh? Maybe. But I decided to trust Him. I’m always telling my friends to - might as well take my own advice. I sent out an 'Ok.' to my Lord and that’s been it. I simply do not think about it anymore. It’s not hard to do! I’m not stressed about my lack of man, I don’t look for him in the grocery store, and I’m not lonely or depressed. The feelings are just gone. The relief that has come has been hard to believe. I didn’t realize how much of my time this prayer had occupied, and not just my time with Jesus. Sure, I have occasionally thought about my single-hood again, but then comfort like a blanket spreads over me and I’m at peace. The 41-year-old ‘Old Maid’ is content. Now that’s a miracle! I’m not trying to out-sensationalize a cancer cure or a baby to the barren, but this has been on my heart for a LoooNNNggg time. Now it’s just gone. My heart can focus on His sheep otherwise known as my children, my family, my co-workers and customers, my Sunday School kids, my Bible Study gals, and you, dear readers.

As you can imagine, my belief-o-meter has hit the roof. I was urged during coffee-time to share my story. I did with much hesitation. All of this is great, but I feel a little crazy. My story was well received and I've been encouraged by my friends. I’m forging on-ward. I’m going for it. I’m choosing to believe and to stand up and share my story.

Most mornings during my drive now I spend at my 'table' with my Jesus. I talk. I get distracted. He laughs. I can feel that it’s ok when I get off-track because He’s peeking into my life and my mind. I don’t feel Him talking to me every morning; and that’s ok too. He thinks I’m hilarious and He’s always there waiting for me to join Him for another chat. He’s always there. Read it again. He’s always there!

Find your kitchen table. Oh I’m just begging you. Do whatever you’ve got to do to have this experience. Yes, it’s weird! It’s funky. It’s slightly embarrassing to admit that I do. But I know that it’s real. I know that I’m in touch with The One and Only. I crave the same for you.