Years ago, I was referred to a man for coffee.  I knew that I had reached my limits and I was desperate.  I sought help, although I wasn’t sure for what.  Our coffee got cold as we shut down the Starbucks that night, shifting our conversation to the table outside, just beyond the time clock. 

What happened that night was the beginning of a long process of messy growth and tremendous friendship. I look back at that conversation as one of a handful of seminal discussions of my life. 

Years into our relationship, we were again having a coffee and he was feeling particularly cheeky:  ‘You know, I really didn’t want to have coffee with you that night.’  Pshaw.  ‘But God told me to, so I did.  I’m glad I listened.’  Me too.  

Several things struck me about his statement:

• The honesty with which he shared

• The honesty he had within himself to honor what he wanted that night

• His willingness to pause and ask the Father about me

• His fluency with talking (and listening) to the Father

• The trust in his conviction

• The obedience he had for the Father’s direction

He didn’t audibly hear the voice of God that night.  Perhaps it was intuition, perhaps conviction.  Whatever it was, it followed a pause and preceded obedience. 

Years later, as I was preparing to turn in for the evening, I saw my bride get out her prayer markers.  Some folks have a prayer shawl or a prayer closet, but God speaks through Sharpie too.  See, my bride has a special set of markers that she uses to pray.  She writes the words she hears, the verses spoken to her and the pictures written on her heart. I knew when I went to bed that night that these markers were heavy.  She knew not what they were for, but she knew that she was going to wrestle with God as Jacob did (Genesis 32).  I knew this because I’ve seen her do it before.  She knew this because she’d done it before.

What struck me that night was her:

• Experience with obedience

• Willingness to pay the cost of wrestling with God on behalf of another

• Commitment that she was to serve in a way that she is uniquely qualified to serve

• Fluency with translating God’s voice into this form

• Conviction that she act now

 She didn’t audibly hear the voice of God that night.  Perhaps it was intuition, perhaps conviction.  Whatever it was, it followed a pause and preceded obedience. 

 My bride packed up her prayer and passed it on the next day as the Father instructed.  

Sometimes when we ask God for things, He gives us Himself.  Sometimes He gives us one another.  Sometimes He shows up even without us asking. Both my friend and my wife were used by God, albeit reluctantly those evenings.  Neither wanted to stay up and wrestle with God. It’s painful.  And yet each did so in obedience.  And they’ve done it since, each time with greater fluency and each time with a deep knowing of the cost.  

It’s in these moments of obedience that God allows us to serve people. God didn’t need my friend that evening, but, as he’ll note, God gave him the privilege of watching the Father work.  God didn’t need my wife that night, but, as she’ll note, God gave her the privilege of being a salve to a weary soul. 

We may not audibly hear the voice of God.  Perhaps it will be intuition, perhaps conviction.  Whatever it is, I pray it follows a pause and precedes obedience.