Face to Face with God

I was divorced and living in a one-bedroom apartment, feeling confused and alone. It was a hard time in my life but I had always loved the Lord and been very close to Him. I needed Him now more than ever.

On this particular morning the alarm had just zapped me with its wake-up call so I needed to get up and ready for work. I didn’t normally get up at 4:00AM but I had recently made a new commitment to pray with God for one hour each day. I crawled out of bed, got dressed, and went to the front room for fellowship with God.

I was praying the Lord’s Prayer and had just finished hallowing the Lord’s name. Because prayer is a dialogue and not a monologue, I stopped praying and stood there in the front room with my eyes closed, waiting on the Lord’s response. I could not hear anything in my spirit but continued to wait nonetheless. Then something started to become visible in my spirit.

It was like looking at a movie scene filled with theatrical smoke, only in suspended animation. In the distance, a small speck materialized. I thought to myself, what is going on? What is stopping me from seeing clearly? Why the smoke? The Lord hadn’t spoken to me yet, so I continued to wait on Him. What are you trying to show me Lord? Is there something in me that isn’t yet right with you Lord? Is it stopping me from seeing my vision or keeping me from going into your presence?

I have heard the audible voice of God before but never have I had a vision, so I didn’t know what to think, expect, or do, so I continued to wait.

While I subconsciously played twenty questions with God, the whole scene seemed to come at me all at once; the image grew in size until I could finally distinguish what it was. Although still fuzzy in appearance, it began to look like a plus sign. It continued to grow until there was no question as to its identity, it was the Cross.

In an instant zoom, the next thing I could see was the face of Christ. He was looking toward heaven. His face was not in the distance, but up close and personal. His face was all I could see. How could a face so covered with blood and pain, shine with so much love and compassion; love, as only God can give? I was numb with His presence and didn’t know whether I was shaking because of His presence or because of my awe at the experience; probably a little of both.

Then something happened that I will never forget.

In slow motion, Jesus turned and pivoted His head until He was looking me straight in the eyes. He said, “I love you, Jim.” The presence of God was vibrating in me as I stood there, eyes closed, and looking straight into the eyes of Jesus Christ. Jesus was touching my spirit with His eyes and His voice reverberated in my soul.

By this time I was completely numb from the waist up with the power of God. My knees were so weak that I could hardly stand. As I stood there basking in His presence, His image slowly started to fade. The veil became thicker and thicker until He finally disappeared. I do not know how long I stood there; I only know that Cecil B. DeMille could not have made this scene any more real than the one that I had just witnessed.

By virtue of the smoke that was in the foreground of my vision, I believe that the Holy Spirit brought me back to the Cross just so Jesus could personally tell me that He loved me. It was as though He was telling me that if I were the only person on earth, He would have still died for me.

His visitation that day told me that in those two-thousand years He still hadn’t left or forsaken me. His Word says as much in Hebrews 13:5, “. . .for he hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.” He loved me then and He loves me now. In the loneliness and despair of divorce, those precious words “I love you, Jim,” helped me to go on. His presence refurbished my soul and changed my life.

Now, when I face difficult circumstances, I remember that voice who exclaimed His love for me that April morning in my front room, and somehow, no matter what, I get through the day and into the next, which is invariably better.

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Next week: “The Good Ole Days.” Babies are so small and fragile they sometimes scare me. I want to pick them up and hug them but I'm afraid of hurting them, squeezing too hard or worse yet, dropping them. They are totally dependent on us. . .Then they grow up.

God bless you all and we'll see you next Monday.

Thanks for stopping by,

Your Host
James Lindquist
Christian Author
http://www.jameslindquist.net

Check March blog archive or my Website for explanation of my names. http://www.jameslindquist.net/htmfiles/biograph.htm