No one comes … (I)


It was late. All I wanted to do was get home and get to bed. I was tired. But He brought me a young man. One who wanted to talk and talk and talk!

Lord – really?!?

“Yes – really.”

So we ended up having coffee together. And another. One of those all-night dives. Plastic tables. Plastic chairs. Dirty windows. And conversation turned to suicide. His suicide.

Lord, it’s been a long day – not tonight, please! I really need to sleep!

“Stick with it – stick with Me on this.”

So I stuck with it.

And somewhere later – sometime later – right in the middle of a sentence, my loving Father went “God-o’clock” on me.

(He showed me this man walking home after this coffee and this conversation. He showed me the exact route with each street name. Then He showed me this man climbing the stairs to his apartment. He showed me how many floors up he walked. He showed me the apartment number on the door. The I saw the inside – the furniture, the rooms, the layout. He even showed me the scratches and marks – the “lived in look”. He showed me details.

And He showed me this man going to his bedroom. He showed me the man sitting opposite me – the same man sipping his coffee across the table – shut the bedroom door, put on some music, switch up the volume, get a handgun from his bedside table, sit down in his chair, compose himself, look around sadly, and then put the gun to his head and blow his brains out.)

All that in the second or two between lifting my coffee from the plastic table and it not even reaching my lips.

God-o’clock.

“Tell him – tell him right now – every detail that I have just shown you.”

What – all of it … ? Okay Lord … whatever you say.

And after I told him, his answer was confirmation:

“How did you know?”

So I told him. And a man’s life was saved that night.

This is a true story. Not my story. A story told to me by another. Another just like me.

+ – + – + – + – + – + – + – + – + – +

God Soft Hands Jesus has been walking me around this fairground we call Relationship.

We pass by some stalls, we pause at others, and with a few we stop and sit – flop on the grass – look and ponder. And when He moves on, we move on. It has been awhile since He stopped. I didn’t realise He had. I had wandered on (together as I thought) and then realised He had stopped and flopped:

“No one comes to the Father but through Me.” That was the stall He was looking at. So I turned back and flopped beside Him.

” Do you believe that, Paul?”

“No one comes … ” yes I do, Lord. As we walk further together … yes.

”Why?”

Because your Love is too pure. Like uncut heroin to a street junkie. Too strong. Too deadly.

”Heroin? Never been called that before. Not by you. Kind of “catchy” though.”

Thank you. Is that why the “Jesus thing”?

”Partly. But sticking with where we are now … would you “flop with God”? The smell of hot-dogs – flattened grass – generators … the noises … the lights … all of this?”

Flop with God yes – but differently. He is bigger. Way bigger – even though I know you are Him and He is you – I get the omniverse with God. It’s different to hanging out with you here.

”And this “GSHJ” you call me … ?”

I know you are God. YOU know you are God. I know you are Jesus – and so do you. But as I walk with you, I remember Your hands. Outstretched – “allowing” – those nails … THUD … THUD … THUD … Soft hands. Open hands. Just for me. It crept under my skin. That image made You real for me – not just “God” and not just “Jesus” and not just the “Holy Spirit”. Neither one nor the other – but … “ONE” … in me, around me, before me, after me … everything (makes me cry sometimes). So you are just “GSHJ” … “You” and “Me”.

”Tell them so they know: has it always been this way?”

No. Not at all. You were definitely God. Distant, Scary, Too big – too pure – too “uncut”. Out there – not in here. You were “that God” to me.

”Well, Paul – that is why we stopped here. To look over that “that God” – to look over “No come comes … “. Because if the answer is always Love – and Love is living – then Love is Loving and it is a journey together.

And this stall – this moment, Lord … ?

Let’s just sit awhile, Paul. Let’s see what might occur as we do.”

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13 thoughts on “No one comes … (I)

  1. Loving this – and I discover when I don’t pay attention to the God o’clock I begin to unravel.

    He lets me know most assuredly (like He did yesterday) that I am not spending enough time with Him that He misses our “sit” times together, that He needs me as much as I need Him. And then when I return to our regular 1:1 gatherings, when I honor Him in this small but simple way, He bestows upon me the greatest rewards, and I am in tears because I am reminded again of just how precious I am to Him.

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