Call it child-like faith, but I really thought that if I, in that moment, were to open my eyes… I’d see Jesus standing right there before me. As I became more aware of His ever-abiding presence, the reality of His Person intensified. The atmosphere changed. It was as if Heaven were descending into my room. My heart was filled with a joyful anticipation, as I awaited the passing of each moment. And in each passing moment, my faith was rising to higher heights.
Waiting there in my small, quiet room, I reached what seemed to be the end of my doubt, the end of myself. Only moments before, my mind was racing. But then, in that extraordinary moment, the clutter of concern and chaos that had once distracted me was defeated by a peaceful calm. All I could do was stand there and be in awe. There was really nothing to say or do. It was as though I had labored to strike a deep well, and then there was no more need to dig—I had found the water.
I couldn’t believe what was happening to me. The moment had finally come.
Certainly, that was no vision or dream. It was very real. All distractions had been removed. The light was off, my door was locked, the fan was stopped, the music was turned down and my thoughts were done racing. All I knew, all I wanted to know, was that God was there. Then, what I had waited for—longed for—seemed to be just about to happen. I felt as though I was standing on the very edge of a deep abyss. Each moment brought me closer to something very large, very grand. I was about to experience something astonishing, and I just knew it.
Though I had never experienced anything like it, it was familiar and comforting. On that evening, in the common surroundings of my plain bedroom, in a pause of reverence, I thought to myself, “He’s here!”
What had happened to me? What was I experiencing?
It was only months earlier that I had chosen to follow Jesus. And when I write that I “had chosen to follow Jesus”, I am writing of a very real and very deep commitment to the Person of Christ. Determined to hold nothing back from Him, I decided to throw myself on His every promise. I immersed myself in total abandonment to His will. My commitment to make Jesus my Lord, Master, Savior and God was entirely sincere, literal.
It was well beyond a superficial claim, and said commitment brought about a complete, miraculous transformation in me. This wasn’t just a change of culture, beliefs or actions. It was truly a change of my very nature. I was recreated, new and born again. I became responsive and alive to God’s voice. And His voice was faithful to guide me.
In the days immediately following my born-again experience, God set me up with a series of occurrences that seemed to be leading me down a distinct path. It was as if God had made appointments for me. God’s sovereignty and my daily obedience kept me on a very specific, narrow course.
Not a moment was wasted. If God asked me to do something, I did it without delay. If He asked me to believe something, I believed it without reservation. Grateful for the forgiveness of my many sins, I gladly yielded to His gentle guidance. Though I was by no means perfect, I did not wait until later in my Christianity to begin to take it seriously. To follow Christ, by definition, is to be what many would label as “radical” or “extreme”. In reality, if you truly begin to follow Jesus, even your days of so-called initiation are marked by the Holy Spirit’s confrontational calls to vanquish all forms of selfishness. From the very start, Christ demands the entirety of your world.
Unconditional obedience is the key to walking both consistently and precisely in God’s will. Without fail, obedience toward God places you in the right moment, with the right people, under the right circumstances. I found that to be true, as my days were filled with divine appointments, various occurrences that were too frequent to be dismissed as coincidences.
“The LORD directs the steps of the godly. He delights in every detail of their lives.”
~ Psalm 37:23
I found myself standing before many saintly men and women who imparted spiritual treasures into my life. Because they possessed such profound spirituality, they were men and women with whom I felt I had no business speaking. Only God could have linked me with them, and He did so partly by means of my constant yielding to His voice. In other words, I cooperated with God’s plan to help me grow.
In addition, I found myself at events and church services that were distinguished by and graced with the tangible presence of God. I felt as though each one of those events was tailored specifically for me. In those services, I heard messages that challenged me and experienced moments that accelerated God’s work in my life.
And books were placed in my hands that, early on, helped to shape the foundation of my faith and spiritual perspective. Each week presented new relationships, resources and occurrences that helped me to grow in God. The Holy Spirit was cultivating my gifts and sharpening my spiritual sensitivity. Yes, God was truly guiding me. I felt a purposeful pull on my life, as if the hand of God was carrying me toward a greater place. Each day, a new facet of God was revealed to me. And in each moment, I felt closer and closer to Jesus.
The more I knew of Him, the more I desired to know. The closer I was drawn to Him, the closer I wanted to be. My heart was being transformed. A fire was being kindled deep within my soul. A passion for the purpose of God was being refined.
When I awoke, He was foremost on my thoughts. As I tried to sleep, His goodness kept me awake. Throughout the day, the sense of His presence prevented sorrow and fear. There was a certain vibrant and life-filled brightness about each moment. On a few occasions, when I would pray, I’m almost positive that I smelt a fragrance in the air. I became overwhelmingly fascinated with God. Every time that I opened the Bible, I felt as though I was opening a gift—excitement and curiosity lit my mind.
Piles of notes filled my desk—notes filled with revelation about God. Each day, my spiritual journey took me through dozens of chapters of the Bible. Four to eights hours of daily prayer swiftly passed me by, seeming like only minutes. The newness of the life of God filled my being to overflowing. I felt like a weapon in God’s hand. I sensed that I was being fashioned, polished and prepared for God’s use.
But, in the middle of my personal revival, something changed, and the change was something that greatly concerned me.
Seemingly, I began to lose momentum. It felt like the pace of my growth had stalled, and I mournfully considered myself to be reaching the end of a spiritual growth spurt. I began to panic and pray such hasty prayers: “Lord, did I make you angry? What did I do wrong? Are you still with me?” I also thought such thoughts: “Was it all just a phase? Will the sense of God’s presence ever return to me? Did I do something to upset the Lord?”
Because of what I wasn’t feeling anymore, I alleged that the heavy weight of Glory, the endowment I had sensed over my life, was lifting. I was both puzzled and afraid. I felt like the spiritual wind was knocked out of me. It was difficult to regain my footing. Yet stumbling, I found my balance and steadied along a determined direction.
With a sense of urgency, with all that was within me, with all the strength I could gather, I sought the face of God. I searched to again find the awareness of His majestic presence. In my mind, I was toiling to close a rapidly widening gap between God and I. Yet my prayers didn’t spark from genuine inspiration. Instead, they trudged from my mouth as repetition, memorized prayers. Even my worship to God was scarcely intact. Essentially, my worship was more of a memorial than an extravagant expression unto God. Sadly, even reading scripture was different for me. There was a definite dryness to it.
I felt more studious than spiritual. I felt as though an enormous, stubborn wall obstructed my once swift movement. I felt discouraged. I felt overwhelmed. I felt tired.
I felt abandoned by God.
Feeling several confusing things, I really had only one important decision between two polarized options.
Stay discouraged and quit…
Or
… Continue seeking God.
“Whom have I in heaven but you? I desire you more than anything on earth.”
~ Psalm 73:25
Where else could I have gone? To Who else could I have turned? I had already experienced the splendor of God’s presence. There was no going back for me. I was “damaged” or “ruined” for the counterfeit. I had already tasted something very sweet. So only the truly divine could satisfy. One moment spent in God’s presence can have a residual effect, an alluring power to invoke lifelong pursuit. For me, the matter was settled. I decided that, no matter the results, I would persist in seeking God even unto death.
I so desperately desired to sense the presence of God again that I felt anguished, even lovesick. Even my physical body felt the distress of what seemed to be separation from God’s presence. My tired seeking lasted for months. Like a wanderer in the desert, I dragged myself through the cruel and life-draining heat. I knew what it was to have water, and that knowledge kept me moving.
At this point, let me clarify the matter for you. You must come to appreciate that God is always with you. Yes, we know this in our minds, but we must come to fully appreciate it in our hearts. So often we uplift cries to God as if He has distanced Himself. But He never leaves you or abandons you. After all, the Scripture says that He dwells in you.
“Don’t you realize that all of you together are the temple of God and that the Spirit of God lives in you?”
~ 1 Corinthians 3:16
How can God get any closer than within you? Yet we still experience times that make us wonder and doubt. Even King David, a man after God’s own heart, experienced moments where He felt abandoned by God.
“O LORD, why do you stand so far away? Why do you hide when I am in trouble?”
~ Psalm 10:1
I am compelled to remind you that this is the very same man who wrote about God’s omnipresent nature.
“I can never escape from your Spirit! I can never get away from your presence!”
~ Psalm 139:7
Though God is near, we make the mistake of imagining Him to be far from us. He is always in you and around you. The only distance that can exist between you and God is your unawareness of His presence. So then awareness is the key to sensing His presence. In order for you to sense His presence, God does not need to come any closer; you just need to become more aware.
What we cannot always feel with our physical bodies or human emotions, we can always sense in the spirit. For the sense of the spirit is not based upon feelings but upon faith, which finds its grounding in scripture. And scripture is truth. And truth never changes.
However, even when you’re living righteously, you can feel as though God has withdrawn Himself from you. But be encouraged. When God does “withdraw” in that way, He does so only in relation to your feelings or emotions. In that manner, your feelings serve the matters of the spirit, for such feelings are used of God to pull you deeper. God’s not trying to get away. He’s trying to bring you in further.
He wants you to seek Him.
Ironically, the false sense of God’s distance often comes when you’re walking in His will. The reward for walking with God is becoming closer to God. And when God is preparing you to be drawn closer, He seemingly withdraws.
So, there was that time in my life when the presence of God seemed to be withdrawn from me.
Yet even when I didn’t feel Him, God’s hand still guided me. I may have felt like God wasn’t there, but even that feeling itself was being used of Him. If it wasn’t for such a sense of distance, we would grow complacent in our movement toward God. God makes use of such discomfort to ensure that you continue to grow and climb. In a way, that feeling of distance is just a spiritual case of growing pains.
When God seems to walk away from you, He fully expects you to follow.
I didn’t understand that aspect of God’s nature at the time, so that’s why I had become so distraught. But I was about to learn of it. Soon, God’s plan to pull me into greater depths would unfold before me.
In my soul, a fire was started again when my youth pastor loaned me a book that, since then, has become very special to me. It was a book that God used to give me a major spiritual breakthrough. Whenever I say that God used that book to change my life, I am not exaggerating.
What was the book?
It was a book about the Person of the Holy Spirit. Up to that point, my understanding of the Holy Spirit was very limited. According to my misconception, the Father was the mean One, the Son was the nice One and the Holy Spirit was the mysterious One.
Even though I knew that the Holy Spirit was a living Member of the Trinity, my understanding of Him was elementary and based on much ignorance. I imagined Him to be somewhat of a force or an atmosphere. I also considered Him to be an attitude—as in joyful spirit, Christmas spirit and so on. Even my visualization of Him robbed Him of His personhood. For, in my mind’s eye, He was seen as a cloud or a mist. So really, I had never actually thought of Him in terms of being a personal Being. Yet the author of the book was emphatic that the Holy Spirit could be my closest friend.
I was a little uneasy with the concept when I first heard the Holy Spirit referred to as being “just as much God as the Father and the Son”. Yet the author insisted on that idea. And the more I read, the more I wanted to know this third Person of the Trinity, the Holy Spirit.
Still a bit uncomfortable with the notion, I was hesitant to pursue the Holy Spirit as a personal Friend. Though now I realize that I was being silly, I was initially guilt-ridden for even wanting to directly address the Holy Spirit. I thought that I was perhaps overlooking or disrespecting Jesus by wanting to speak with the Spirit.
If ever you have found yourself wanting to address someone, who you deemed unapproachable, then you understand the awkward tension that can stifle the air. Like in those awkward social encounters, I fumbled and stuttered when I first began speaking to the Holy Spirit. He made me very nervous. That anxiety came partially because I felt guilty for speaking with Him and partially because I was intimidated by this unfamiliar, amazing Being. It was as if He was just standing in the room with me. But I couldn’t muster the confidence to acknowledge or engage Him in any meaningful interaction.
Yet I was so amazed by what the author of that book had written about the Holy Spirit that I pushed through the tension of false, religious-based guilt and self-inflicted intimidation. I continued to ponder: “How do I address Him? What do I call Him? And for that matter, if He’s a person, why do we call Him ‘The Holy Spirit’?”
At least settling the latter question, I came to terms with the reality that we address many persons using “The”—the president of the United Sates, the police officer, the queen of England. I even compared His title with those of “the Son” and “the Father”. We refer to the Son and the Father using “the”. If I were to believe, based upon His title, that the Holy Spirit wasn’t a person, it would only be logical to believe, based on their titles, the same of the Father and the Son. So that was one small hurdle that I was able to clear.
Still, I remained uncomfortable with the idea of addressing the Holy Spirit directly. I thought that perhaps such praying might be counted against me as misdemeanor idolatry.
But that simple truth, that I could befriend the Holy Spirit, staggered me—it captivated my heart. Soon I was consumed with the idea. I couldn’t get it out of my mind for even a minute. More than anything in the world, I wanted that friendship.
At that time in my life (my early teens), I was beginning to develop a very limiting insecurity. Like most people that age, I felt awkward, somewhat odd. I found it challenging to connect with other people in friendship. So, to me, a friendship with the Holy Spirit sounded both comforting and exciting.
The author talked about the Holy Spirit with such reverence, love and familiarity. He and the Holy Spirit seemed to be very fond of each other. As I read that anointed book, I said to myself, “I want that too. Holy Spirit, I want to know you in the same way!” When I read of the author’s relationship with the Holy Spirit, I was provoked to a holy jealousy.
What most intrigued me was when the author referred to the Holy Spirit as a teacher. I was told that the Holy Spirit would teach me to pray and worship. I read that the Spirit would even take the time to teach me the truths of God’s Word. What an amazing message that was—that the Spirit Himself would be my personal teacher!
“Maybe that’s what I need”, I wondered. “Maybe the Holy Spirit can guide me beyond this ‘wall’ that seems to be obstructing my prayer life.” I was still very determined to move beyond that “loss of spiritual momentum”. And I just knew that the Spirit would help me to close the distance I felt from God.
But, looking back, I now realize that it was God all along. I was never losing momentum. I was gaining passion. I wasn’t stalling. I was growing spiritually hungry. God wanted me to pursue a deeper friendship with the Holy Spirit, so He allowed my circumstances, feelings and desires to pull me towards Him. What I thought was a setback was actually a setup.
A few days after I read that book, and after studying the concepts for myself, I made up my mind: I would seek an audience with the Holy Spirit. I would ask Him for His friendship and guidance.
One night, not only would I again find the refreshing springs of God’s presence, but I would also make a new Friend.
Remembering the words of Jesus, I was inspired.
“But when you pray, go away by yourself, shut the door behind you, and pray to your Father in private. Then your Father, who sees everything, will reward you.”
~ Matthew 6:6
Locked away in my bedroom, it was as if all of the passion and desire within me had reached their maximum limit. A love for God had driven me to seek Him. I had hoped to see immediate results, though I couldn’t tell you what I considered results to be exactly.
Eventually, I committed, “God, I’m not leaving this room until you show me something, until I am introduced to the Holy Spirit. I don’t care if I’m here for days. I’ll go hungry if I must. But I am not leaving here until you make your presence known to me. I am not going anywhere until you touch me!”
And for the next few hours, I sought the Holy Spirit of God like I had never sought Him before. The chase had begun. My pursuit of the presence consumed me. Worship, Bible-reading, prayer and tears—I felt as though I was off to a good start.
One hour had passed… nothing happened.
There was no divine visitation, no glorious ecstasy. My room’s atmosphere was as ordinary as it had ever been. I cried. But my pleadings were met by only more frustration and disappointment. Trying to guilt God into a response, I prayed such prayers like, “Lord, why won’t you reveal yourself to me? Are you there? Have you abandoned me?” Fear, not faith, became the place from which I sought the Lord.
My face was pressed into the tear-drenched carpet. My fists were clenched with such force that I lost feeling in my hands. I tensed my entire body and wept. But as I emptied the reserves of my melancholy emotions, my words became empty and repetitive. What lacked in a true and spiritual connection, I attempted to compensate for with emotion.
My emotional efforts only further empowered feelings of guilt, worthlessness and shame. Though I was a son, I was praying from the position of a beggar. Yet no amount of weeping was able to bring about the authentic touch of God that I was so desperately seeking.
I persisted.
Two hours had passed… Still, nothing happened.
Now pacing the room, I decided to really “get serious”. I reached for the more aggressive of my emotions. With what I thought was righteous indignation, I began to rebuke doubt and demonic spirits of distraction. With a firm and authoritative tone, I began to decree and declare. I asked angels to war for the atmosphere and establish the dominion of God.
I spoke with might and strength. Raising my voice, I prayed. But, within that hour, I learned that there was no power in aggression. For noise is not power. I had exhausted myself. I was seeking God by my own efforts. I made a lot of commotion but no connection.
Dear reader, it is a good thing to so desire God. But, in reality, neither you nor I know the way into the presence. Honestly, no man or woman knows the way in. You and I cannot find that secret place on our own. What’s more: you and I can’t even desire to find God’s presence on our own. We are helplessly dependent upon the guidance of the Holy Spirit. Only He knows the way in.
I had poured my emotion into my prayers. I had exercised all my willpower. I had raised my voice with aggression and determination. Believe me. If it were possible to enter the presence of God by human effort, in that moment, I would have made it in. But the Scripture tells us plainly,
“… It is not by force nor by strength, but by my Spirit, says the LORD of Heaven’s Armies.”
~ Zechariah 4:6
I persisted in human effort. Still, nothing happened.
Three hours had passed…
That my eager effort was unfruitful only discouraged me further. My mind began to analyze and assess. Where emotion failed, I had hoped that thoughtfulness would succeed. My mind shifted from thought to thought, searching for an anchored truth to which it could cling. In that moment, I recalled various conversations with spiritual mentors, and I remembered several ideas from the books I had read. I thought of the Bible verses I had memorized, the prayer “techniques” I had learned and the spiritual warfare training I had been given. There was no formula I didn’t try to apply. However, those mental attempts of the soul only served to complicate the matter. I became entangled in myself. My “spirituality” was itself my focus. I attempted to be spiritual by what I knew. And though I had determined to focus solely on God, my thoughts wandered and strayed into diversion. And even when my thoughts seemed to come back on track, they were ineffective, powerless.
Emotion failed. Strength failed. Aggression failed. And then will-power and intellect were failing just as miserably. No emotion, thought, mindset or effort had produced the encounter I anxiously sought. The enemy used my disappointment to weary me further. The battle began to drain my strength.
Fear gripped me—the moments were passing me. “Lord”, I prayed, “what am I doing wrong? Are you angry with me?” And, even still, nothing happened.
Four hours had passed…
What more was there to try?
What had worked before?
Rituals became my new course of action. I turned on worship music, opened my Bible and held a reverent demeanor. I relied on actions that had seemed to work before. I even switched on the ceiling fan for comfort. Turning to formalities, my seeking became superstitious. Unknown to me, I was using only ritual. And a ritual is an attempt to be spiritual without the Spirit.
Spiritual—Spirit = ritual
Spiritual minus Spirit equals just ritual.
Looking back at that moment, I think of the Scripture,
“He revealed his character to Moses and his deeds to the people of Israel.”
~ Psalm 103:7
Many know God’s actions. Few know His nature. God is not mechanical; He is personal. One of my mistakes was thinking that specific actions would produce definite results. But God does not respond to ritualized practices. He responds to genuine cries of the spirit.
Applying rituals, I quickly lost enthusiasm. My body and soul were drained, tired. There was nothing left that I had to give. I was empty. There was nothing more I could do, and I knew it.
It was already the fourth hour, and I wondered if I had been wasting my time. I tried everything I knew to do. Heaviness weighed upon me. Overwhelmed, I picked myself up from the ground and prepared to give up. I felt silly for having determined to stay in my room—even somewhat embarrassed. All of my seeking had come to nothing. I began to cry. I thought, “What more can I do? What more is there to try?”
“If you look for me wholeheartedly, you will find me.”
~ Jeremiah 29:13
“God, please!” I prayed through my tears, “Teach me how to find you. Help me. I don’t know how to find you. I don’t even know if I’m praying right. Can you show me how to pray?” I had given my every effort and had nothing more to do.
…Then I grew very still, very quiet.
I gave up trying. At that point, in my heart, I knew that it was all on God. So I stood there and expected—I patiently waited. Setting aside my own effort, I made way for the Holy Spirit to become involved. My only action, if it could be considered an action, was that I anticipated.
I waited…
We must not even dare to rush royalty. We the servants must wait on the Master and not the other way around. The Scripture tells us plainly,
“Be still, and know that I am God!”
~ Psalm 46:10
To know that He is God, you must first be still. Quietness comes before knowing. Stillness precedes revelation. To enter into an awareness of God’s presence, you must first be quiet. Our own efforts, no matter how sincere, are of the flesh, mere human effort. And we are clearly told that,
“The Spirit alone gives eternal life. Human effort accomplishes nothing. And the very words I have spoken to you are spirit and life.”
~ John 6:63
When I asked the Lord to teach me how to find Him, I heard a simple instruction: “Just wait and expect.” Essentially, He was telling me to be still and have faith.
“Be still in the presence of the LORD, and wait patiently for him to act.”
~ Psalm 37:7
In this day, patience is somewhat of a lost art. We live in times of great technological advancement. We live fast-paced and rather distracted lives. More connected to each other than ever before, we have become disconnected from the sacred and the spiritual. We eat fast, travel fast, communicate fast and live fast. The pace of this generation is rushed.
Ever increasing in knowledge, our stimulated minds have become wired to need constant change. We have exchanged the joyful for the entertaining, the sacred for the savvy, the spiritual for the material and the eternal for the momentary. We, as trained consumers, have become accustomed to convenience, and we disdainfully reject whatever isn’t preferred or easy.
If it doesn’t come easy enough, we move right on to the next thing. If it takes too long to acquire, we lose interest. Our attention spans are shrinking, and our focus is becoming harder to keep. We want everything given to us instantly, conveniently and according to our entitled liking. In a world where numerous things are customized, many people fail to connect with a God Who never changes. And very few welcome the change of self. This is a generation of blatant entitlement; it demands that almost everything be given to it conveniently.
Thus, many want God and all that He offers to be given to them in the same manner. Then is it really any wonder why this generation has so much trouble finding awareness of God? After all, such awareness is found by waiting in stillness and the silence of self.
But I, in that moment, had exhausted all that my flesh had to offer. Beaten into tiring submission, my flesh was no longer able to seek out distraction. I simply waited on the Lord. And the Holy Spirit was the One Who helped me to wait, for He is the Crafter of patience.
“But the Holy Spirit produces this kind of fruit in our lives: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness…”
~Galatians 5:22
It was while waiting on the Lord that I felt a gentle nudge that, once more, stirred the embers of my soul. A soft leading prompted me: “Turn off the music, close the book, turn off the light and switch off the fan.”
I did just that. I turned off the worship music. I closed my Bible. I turned off the light and the fan. Then it was calm, silent. Everything was so quiet, except for the noise within me. I wondered how I might quiet the thoughts that brought about such distracting restlessness.
I heard a very polite instruction: “Close your eyes.”
So I closed my eyes, but my thoughts still raced. I prayed again, “Holy Spirit, what do I do?” The response was a very soft whisper, “Look at me.” Somehow, I knew exactly what that meant. It meant to just meditate on the Person of Christ, all that He is and does.
Prayer is a presentation of self to the Lord. We are to approach the throne room and wait. Once waiting, we need only to be quiet. Only the Holy Spirit knows the way into the greater depths of God’s presence. And if you’re quiet enough, you’ll hear Him gently tell the way.
And there, in the quietness of my room, my attention turned toward Jesus. The Holy Spirit was telling me to look at Jesus with the eyes of my heart. And I gazed upon Him by means of internal reflection. I thought of the love I might see in His eyes, the power I might feel in His hands, the authority I might sense on His shoulders and the wisdom I might hear from His mouth. I pictured Him—it was an image painted from my knowledge of scripture. It was the Word being manifested in my thoughts. I thought, “What if I approached Him, as many did in the Scripture? What if I were to kneel before Him and plead for His attention?” And then I imagined His response. He wouldn’t turn me away. He wasn’t turning me away! Jesus was becoming real to me in that moment.
That’s what the Holy Spirit does. He reveals Jesus. He makes the Son of God an evident reality. After all, it was by the Holy Spirit that Christ was conceived.
“This is how Jesus the Messiah was born. His mother, Mary, was engaged to be married to Joseph. But before the marriage took place, while she was still a virgin, she became pregnant through the power of the Holy Spirit.”
~ Matthew 1:18
It was by the Holy Spirit that an incomprehensible God became a man. Think about that. The infinite God became a man by the power of the Holy Spirit. It was by the Holy Spirit that Christ was born, and it was by the Holy Spirit that Christ was resurrected.
“The Spirit of God, who raised Jesus from the dead, lives in you.”
~ Romans 8:11
It is easier for an insect to understand the complexities of a computer than it is for you to understand God. Yet the Holy Spirit took all that was God and formed the God-man, fully God and man.
“For in Christ lives all the fullness of God in a human body.”
~ Colossian 2:9
All that is God was put into the body of a human. Jesus said,
“Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father! So why are you asking me to show him to you?”
~ John 14:9
Jesus was fully God and fully man. The Holy Spirit did that. The Holy Spirit is the One Who manifests the Son. The Holy Spirit has been, is and always will be the One Who reveals Jesus. The Holy Spirit brings the Word to life. He makes the Word flesh. He brings about the reality of Christ.
And I found that to be true, as I waited upon the Holy Spirit. Suddenly, I sensed a rupture of faith within my heart. It was like adrenaline for my spirit. I am not skilled enough to adequately describe what I felt in that moment. There was such sweetness to His presence, such a euphoric and uplifting energy. Like a cold breathe of air, the life of God rushed through my being; it refreshed me.
Though I sought the Spirit, all that I had read of Jesus in the Scriptures was flowing through my mind. Jesus became the object of my focus. His image captured my thoughts. The eyes of my heart had turned from myself to the Son of God. The Word was, indeed, becoming flesh. I forgot about myself. I forgot about my troubling thoughts. I forgot about every negative circumstance in my life. I forgot about my frustration. I even forgot about trying to pray! Jesus was becoming more real to me in that moment than anything I had ever known.
My new friend, the Holy Spirit, introduced Himself by vivifying the Son.
The atmosphere was changing. The wind of the Spirit began to blow through my room. My body began to shake under what felt like currents of power. The very air seemed to be electrified with divine essence. My ability to stand was being taken from me. A warm and inviting heat enveloped my entire body. Raptured in a glorious and indescribable moment, I was moved to worship. But I used no words or song. I simply adored Him within my heart.
Visuals of the throne of God flashed through my mind. I was catching glimpses of scenes that inspired me and filled me with joy. I lost all sense of time. I wasn’t crying tears of frustration anymore—I was crying for joy. My mind was at rest. My soul was refreshed. And I felt that I had been pulled into a greater depth, a different reality altogether. I had entered a realm that I had never before experienced. My room became a little piece of Heaven on earth.
Jesus was in the room with me. He was so near. I was so aware of His presence! My eyes closed, I thought that if I were to stretch out my hand, I might feel it brush against His robe. I didn’t want to open my eyes or move even an inch, and I don’t think I could have if I tried. I wanted nothing to disturb the beauty of that moment. It was a holy and sacred experience that inspired an overwhelming awe. I trembled with fear and reverence. It was altogether marvelous and terrifying.
Call it child-like faith, but I really thought that if I, in that moment, were to open my eyes… I’d see Jesus standing right there before me. As I became more aware of His ever-abiding presence, the reality of His Person intensified. What was happening to me?
I was meeting the Holy Spirit, and He was demonstrating His work. As I stood there, I was being transformed. With each moment that passed, I was becoming more like Christ.
I couldn’t believe what was happening to me. The moment had finally come. Yes, the sense of God’s presence had returned to me and in even greater measures. The experience lasted for a few minutes, but it was worth the months I spent trying to find it. If I sought for a hundred years, it would have been worth it. There really is nothing that can compare to such an experience in God’s manifested presence. It cannot be faked or counterfeited. Could you explain hearing to a lifelong deaf? Is it possible to describe colors to someone born blind? In that way, the sense of God’s presence also eludes an adequate description.
For me, that experience has remained a major mark on the timeline of my spiritual growth. And, dear reader, you too can experience the depths of God’s presence. Such depths are discovered by means of an indescribably beautiful friendship with the Holy Spirit.