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- Written by: Don Goulding
My goal is that their hearts, having been knit together in love, may be encouraged, and that they may have all the riches that assurance brings in their understanding of the knowledge of the mystery of God, namely, Christ, in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. (Colossians 2:2, 3)
I felt God calling me away for a deeper encounter with him. We had a small motor home, and I drove up the northern California coast. The last miles on dirt roads wound through rain drenched groves of redwood and cypress. At the end of the beach, winter dashed her waves against the cliffs and blew gifts of mist into the silhouettes of jagged pines.
Not a soul was in sight. Just God and me for three days of prayer, fasting, and Scripture. Surely the Holy Spirit would reveal himself in a burning bush, or at least with one of those tingly experiences you read about.
By day three, my spirit was cleansed and saturated with God’s word. It left me hungry for more. As a light drizzle fell outside, I invited the Holy Spirit to fill me. A blessed peace surrounded my being and I basked in his presence for another hour. Ah, that was so good and right, but where was the electricity, the downpour of glory too powerful for my frame?
God loves that I want more of him. In fact, he wants to give more than I want to receive, because I only want to receive on my terms. I look for heavenly sparks so my otherwise mediocre commitment might be endorsed. Those are my terms.
Under God’s terms he wants to bring his character into the commonness of my life. If I’d let him, he would reclaim every moment with purity, love, and selflessness. That is how God chooses to reveal himself.
There is a fog that veils my eyes from the mystery of God. It rises up at the crashing of life’s tumultuous vexations. And while I’m preoccupied with those difficulties, or busy groping after supernatural evidence, God gently wafts his very being into the jags of my small life.
Prayer: Jesus, grant me the riches of the knowledge of you.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
The apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith!” So the Lord replied, “If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this black mulberry tree, ‘Be pulled out by the roots and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.” (Luke 17:5, 6)
I tell others I believe, I sing the songs and pray the prayers. But in my heart is Jesus solid? My faith is a tiny, black mustard seed—no bigger than a dot on a page. What can I do with such an insignificant dose of life’s vital ingredient?
My world is destroyed by sin and I need a replacement. I can’t remain a permanent resident of this cursed planet. There must be something more, someone perfect, someplace of peace and love. To continue living, I have to hope in that reality. I’m forced to use my mustard seed dot of faith.
There on my palm is the round, black seed. It’s not much, but I take it between thumb and finger and place it on the ground. Next, I lay hold of my eternal future and set that mass atop my seed. I take up Sundays, think twice, then grab all the days of my week, and lay them on the mustard seed. My income, career, and retirement go on top of the growing pile—all supported by that little seed.
What will I do with my entertainment, rest, and me time? I’ll put them onto the seed. I have no choice. It’s my only option for rescue out of this world. I can’t logically expect the seed to also bear the weight of my broken family and loved ones, but where else can I lay them? On the seed they must go.
My heaviest burden of all, the one that crushes joy, is the unfairness of life. What will I do with child soldiers forced to murder, with cancer ridden saints, and with earthquakes that kill grade schoolers by the thousands? I assumed God would at least take over those loads. But no, they too must rest on my seed.
Here am I, a pitiful, hungry soul, with a minuscule faith. My dot refuses to enlarge, and yet, by force of my will, I choose to stand all that I am, all that I have, and every choice I make, on that tiny bit of faith.
Prayer: Jesus, Savior and Lord, all my hope is in you.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
I will go on to visions and revelations from the Lord. I know a man in Christ who fourteen years ago . . . was caught up into paradise and heard things too sacred to be put into words, things that a person is not permitted to speak. (2 Corinthians 12:1, 2, 4)
“America is the best country, the very best. They take care of all the people.” After he heard my English, a man standing on a crowded bus in Albania praised my birth country. “I want to go to the USA, and see it with my eyes.”
“Here is Albania,” I said, as I held my finger and thumb a few centimeters apart. Then I slightly increased the visual gap. “And here is America.” Finally, I held my hands as far apart as my arms would allow and said, “And here is heaven. Wouldn’t you rather go to heaven?”
We are curiously reserved when discussing heaven, as if we’re embarrassed to speculate on its grandeur. There are aspects of heaven we are not meant to know about in this era. And humility must prevent us from stating fancy as fact. Still, we must also delight over the possibilities. Because our Father’s creativity is bigger than our imagination, there is no threat of overestimating the glory.
I see myself streaking across the universe with my favorite companion. Jesus takes me sixty-three million light years from earth to see the violet and amber luminance of the Antennae Galaxies. Because I have a spirit body, we pass through the molecules and a spray of colors unknown in my prior life bursts through my eyes.
My laughing King shows off his next wonder on the shimmering surface of a blue dwarf star, where we pause to hear a concert from seraphs. As master of the physics of time, I make a spiraling dive through epochs to join the Creator for a cool walk, in a place not unlike the unspoiled Garden of Eden. We lock arms and chat as we stroll through the sweet fragrance of jasmine and gardenia, while a train of curious panda bears, giraffes, and a stegosaurus, nudge us from behind.
It’s okay to get loopy from anticipation of our coming inheritance.
Prayer: Awesome Creator, keep me excited about your home.