The Tone of God’s Voice

The Tone of God’s Voice

“Her thoughts at the meeting today were critical!” he texted.

What’s that supposed to mean? Were her words were extremely important, or shockingly negative?

Everyone knows how a text message or an email can be misunderstood because we miss the tone in someone’s voice. The same set of words can be said with appreciation or hostility. Tone is vitally important, because as Don Miller said, there are always two conversations going on—the one with words, and the one that reveals feelings. The latter makes all the difference.

How can we better understand the tone of God’s voice if all we have is the Bible? Like a text or an email, what if we get it wrong? What if we experience a boatload of condemnation when reading the Old Testament? Or how about Paul’s statements concerning women: were they condescending or matter-of-fact, and would knowing his tone of voice change our perception? And ultimately, if God is the Author of all Scripture, how can we go beyond the printed words to experience His heart?

Well for one thing, that’s why God came in person. Jesus’s earthly life gave us a deeper look at the heart of God. He could’ve come in His glory as “the King of kings.” Instead He entered the normal way, as a baby, making Himself accessible to ordinary people. He entered the fray, ignoring all kinds of personal-space rules…speaking to the woman at the well, welcoming little children, and touching unclean lepers. He let doubting Thomas feel His nail-pierced hands and honored a prostitute who bathed His feet in perfume.

He even washed feet.

In short—Jesus was completely approachable. Actions help convey the spirit and tone of someone’s words.

Still, there has to be more. Continue reading

God’s Poem

God’s Poem

This is a true account of a sign and wonder.

In 1994, Jenny and I met to pray with a very troubled woman. Our youngest sons were toddlers at the time, and that day, there seemed to be a lot of commotion–fighting over toys, crocodile tears, and the tromping sound of unhappy feet. Every time we sat down to pray, some new difficulty would arise.

Jenny recognized it as spiritual warfare. Though the term has become cliché, if you’ve ever been on assignment for God you know that’s usually when the dog runs off, the milk spills, or the car won’t start. Firebrands. That’s what I call them. Sent by the enemy stir up trouble.

So what did we do? We sang a song and worshipped God together. Remember that if you’re ever in a time of distress, if you’re scared in the dark or feeling hopeless. It’s a powerful countermove.

Right after we sang, Jenny sensed that the Lord was about to give her a prophetic word. She often compared it to the feeling you have right before you sneeze. You know something is coming.

Jenny would basically “see” or “hear” in her mind—a phrase. When she spoke it out loud, another phrase would form, and she’d continue until the words stopped coming. That day the words came in such a downpour, I barely had time to take notes. Fortunately, I had my laptop. I can type much faster than I write.

Because it came rapidly, I typed her words in one continuous sentence. Later, when I made spelling corrections and added punctuation, I realized the phrases formed a rhyming poem.Continue reading

Signposts – Part IV

Signposts – Part IV

Seated on the right side, I am the only passenger on a 747 airplane. The plane is descending far too fast. It suddenly occurs to me—we are crash landing.

All air is sucked from my lungs.

The plane is frightfully close to the airport building. I wince as the right wing of the airplane hits the structure and breaks off. After that, I shut my eyes. My arms cover my head, and I slump over as we hit the ground hard. The sound of screeching metal on concrete is ear-piercing. The plane weaves right and left, fishtailing wildly. I brace to stop my forward motion. Will the plane burst into flames?

Finally, all is quiet. I am alive. Visibly trembling, I exit the plane.

Immediately, a Northwest Airlines official is there to greet me.

“I’m…I’m so sorry,” I say, between labored breaths. “I didn’t mean to wreck your plane.”

He offers a wide smile and touches my arm. “Not a problem.”

I’m stunned. Millions of dollars have been lost in the wreckage.

He cuts to the chase. “It doesn’t matter.” Pointing toward the hangar, he continued. “We have this for you.”Continue reading