I don’t want to write tonight.

Wait.  That didn’t come out right, did it?  I can hear the murmuring already.

“If you don’t want to write, don’t. We don’t want to read it all that much, either.”

Ah.  As the Bard would say, there’s the rub.  I’m beginning to believe that when I don’t want to is the very time I must.

But, in these opening words, you’ve been warned. 

Read on at your peril.  The management takes no responsibility for the outcome, good or bad, happy or sad.

We sat around a circle of friends just yesterday, celebrating the passing of another year for one of them.  His wife, at one point in the conversation, suggested that, if we wanted to, we might relate an example of personally receiving a gift, a clear message from God that He loves us.

She told of standing outside her door, admiring the hummingbirds drinking from the feeder she maintains for them.  As she stood, motionless, one of them left the feeder and, hovering in the air, looked her right in the eyes for several moments.  She held her breath and the beautiful creature came even closer.  She almost thought it could have been his way of saying thank you.

We all agreed that truly it was a moment to savor, to give thanks to our Creator for His love and wonder.  Then, our friend asked if anyone else wanted to share their “God moment.” 

Some did.

I didn’t.

I don’t know why.  Or, maybe I know too well.  If I do share them, there may be more. 

I don’t want any more.

Still, having had 24 hours to consider, I think I will share.  With my readers, anyway.

I did warn you.

A few weeks ago, on a Saturday morning, my phone rang.  The lady’s voice was strained and tense.  She wanted to know if I was at home.  When I answered in the affirmative, she asked if I could come over as quickly as possible.

I rushed over to help my friend, her husband, off the floor where he had fallen and back onto his bed. Then, as she sat beside him, we talked of hardship and growing old, and decisions that were just too difficult to make in the moment.

She cried.  I cried.  My friend thanked me for coming to help.

It was the last time I would ever see him.

And, that’s my gift from God—my God moment. 

I know; it is confusing, isn’t it?

Perhaps it wouldn’t be the right thing to relate at a birthday party.  No, perhaps is the wrong word.  I should have said, probably.  Maybe even certainly.

The moments such as our friend at the party revealed to us—they are, without question, gifts from God.  He loves to surprise us with joy and light.

He does.

But life isn’t all about fun; it’s not all about parties.  The purpose of our life is decidedly not that we should be happy every moment of all our days here on earth.

I’ve written the words before—the words that begin the Westminster Shorter Catechism.

“The chief end of man is to glorify God and to enjoy Him forever.”

There!  There it is!  Enjoy Him forever!  That means to be happy, doesn’t it?

Well, no.  The thing is, the only way we can enjoy Him is to do what glorifies Him. 

We don’t get to pick and choose the parts we like.  Truth becomes untruth very quickly when we pick it apart like that.

Long-suffering Job said the words to his wife, millenniums ago: 

Should we accept only good things from the hand of God and never anything bad?” So in all this, Job said nothing wrong. (Job 2: 10, NLT)

I don’t particularly like the gifts He’s giving me now.  I don’t really want a flood of this type of gift. 

Yet, they do come, His gifts of opportunities to serve.

With some regularity, these days.

And still, I believe He uses them to bring about good.  His Word says He will. (see Romans 8:28)

I sat beside a hospital bed today and heard the words from the fellow propped up there, this man who is under a death sentence.  He lay there, heart racing, sucking in each breath of oxygen through the cannula, tubes strung out of both arms, and he told me how thankful he is for all he has.

Gifts.

Coming down from the Father of Lights.

God moments.  All through our life.

He does, indeed, love us.

 

Whatever is good and perfect is a gift coming down to us from God our Father, who created all the lights in the heavens. He never changes or casts a shifting shadow.  (James 1:17, NLT)

“Think on these two powerful points: Lean on God in every situation and love others as unselfishly as you possibly can.” (Joyce Meyer)

© Paul Phillips. He’s Taken Leave. 2022. All Rights Reserved.