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A Strange Messenger
God speaks to me in strange ways. I know of many people who have experienced prophetic visions and dreams—not me. The majority of the times when I have had a personal revelation or a spiritual epiphany they have been revealed through strange means, and sometimes curious messengers. Such was the case in the late summer of 1989.
While moving from Northern California to Colorado to pursue an open door the Lord provided in ministry, I had an encounter—a visitation that continues to influence me. This visitation that I speak of was not with a prophetic man or a righteous woman of God who inspired me with wisdom, discernment, or counsel. I did not slip into a trance and visit some celestial place. Neither did I envision an illuminated angelic being that spoke of unknown mysteries. No—as strange as it sounds, the messenger that day was a simple seagull.
Sitting in my rented Ryder truck through desolate portions of Nevada on Interstate 70, the activity around me slowed down to a crawl. As if it was happening in slow motion, I saw a white bird coming into my view several yards away in front of my vehicle. Because time had decelerated, I noticed everything in the landscape and every detail on that bird. Now, you might think I am making this up, but as the bird began to cross my path, I saw him cock his head to look straight at me…then he smiled. He was deliberate with his expression because he knew what was about to happen.
With that sly smile on his little beak, he unleashed the largest load of bird doo-doo every recorded in the history of bird-dom. It hit my windshield like a sheet of a dozen paintballs splattering against their target. The barrage was not limited to my window. A large portion of my yellow truck was now white. Because it happened in slow motion and I saw the bird smile (I stand by my story), I began to laugh out loud. The attack hit me humorous.
Wanting to clear my windshield of all that had landed there, I quickly reached for my wiper controls only to discover that this particular truck had exhausted the healthy life of its blades. Instead of clearing the milky substance from the glass, the wipers simply pushed it back and forth. Smearing it with each stroke. Again…laughter.
After a few minutes spent gazing through the diluted (but now dried) film on my window, something caught my attention. Positioned directly in front of me was a colorful speck—a chunk, if you will, that obviously had come from the seagull.
Because I am a strange (sometimes deranged) person who has a unique perspective on life and is unafraid to ask curious questions, a thought popped into my brain that I could not ignore (please don’t judge me). Looking at this green mass, I asked myself, “I wonder what he had for lunch?”
Now I know that is sick, but hang with me. My curiosity led me to an interesting revelation—not about the diet or dining habits of Nevada’s seafowl, but about myself. Concentrating my focused attention on that chunk, I lost sight of all other things in my picture. The windshield became hazy, the road blurred, and the terrain disappeared from my view. All I could see was the object that I was converging on. And that almost got me into trouble.
I began to drift in the road—actually, off the road. My yellow Ryder truck was heading for the ditch until I recognized the rumble marks on the road beneath me (driving by brail is sometimes effective). I sat back in my seat and again, found the center of the road.
Being slow to learn from my mistakes, after a few minutes, my curiosity returned, and I leaned toward the dropping again. Same habit, same result. The rumbling woke me to my position in the road.
As I sat back up in my seat (with slight laughter still in my heart) God spoke to me. In that gentle whisper I have come to know and love (aren’t you glad he doesn’t shout and scream?), he said, “See how easy to distract you are?”
In that moment, I understood something about myself. I have a focus problem. I realized that in my truck, my perception was affected by what I chose to look at. When I sat back in my chair and looked past the mess on my windshield, I barely noticed it was there. Although it wanted to hinder my view and distract my focus, it did not affect me in any way.
However, when I focused on the mass in front of me, all other things faded. The road seemed to disappear. The sunshine became insignificant. And, the signs that were intended to offer direction had no impact. I realized my lesson that day was not about driving, but about me.
God wants me to focus on him. When I do, my faith is stronger, my problems less visible, and life is easier to navigate.
I think he wants the same for you as well.
“Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith.” Hebrews 12:2a
Adapted from Sean’s Book, The Warrior Way.
Here is the source....I want to give full credit to the author and the site!Go to:
http://www.groundwire.net/StrangeMessenger.cfm
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