If you're new here, you may want to subscribe to my RSS feed. Or you can select your feed type by clicking on the "Subscribe" button on the right. Thanks for visiting!
Do you think God still speaks to people through dreams?
He did in the Bible.
I know a lot of people who don’t think He does that anymore because we have the Bible now. I know a lot of other people who say, “So what? The Bible we have shows God speaking to people through dreams. So if the Bible is inerrant, infallible and all that, why would it say that God gave people dreams back in the day if He’s not supposed to speak through dreams now?”
I gotta admit, that makes sense to me. But I should hasten to say that not every dream comes from God. One time I dreamed that I hauled off and slugged this British guy. I know he was British because when he prepared to slug me back he said something really ugly in a very lovely British accent.
I don’t think that dream was from God. Unless He was telling me to avoid hauling off and slugging guys from Great Britain.
But I have had dreams that I very much believe were prophetic. Like this one. And probably this one.
And I think I may have had another one last week.
I don’t know what you do with your possible alerts from the Almighty in your sleep, but I have sort of an ad hoc committee I run them by, just to test it out. Think of it as my Prophetic Testers of Supposed Dreams team (PTSD for short). [click to continue…]
by Andy Wood on October 30, 2011
in 100 Words
Something happens at the end of the day when the to-do list loses its power, the however-many words we use have escaped us, and the sinks and tubs and TVs have done their duty. Life gets still. Sometimes for a fleeting moment before sleep. Sometimes, like last night for me, for a surprising length of time. Borrowing from ancient practices, I like to call these moments the Watches of the Night. Even though the body is tired, another part of you is still very awake.
It’s there, in the quiet stillness, that you can hear Him if you listen in your spirit.
It’s the same Gentle Whisperer that Elijah heard in the mouth of the cave.
He’s the Mighty to Save, who quiets your soul in the most beautiful of ways… He rejoices over you with singing.
This is no task for angels or even people. This is a visitation in love fitting only for One who can take such personal delight in you, despite your weakness or failure. And in the Watches of the Night, He Himself becomes the descant of your soul.
Listen with your heart, and in the Watches of the Night, you can hear Him lifting your soul, singing to your hope that He will come back to you again. He sings to your regrets with His stubborn love, casting them into the depths of the deepest sea. And in his delight over you, He buoys your heart to face new challenges and new opportunities for patience and endurance. [click to continue…]
I.
If you ever wanted to write a forever kind of song
That angels or children or the big choirs sing…
If you’ve ever wanted to rhyme with the heart
Of the One who bends the rainbow
And deserves even more than your finest praise…
Then make your music with a life of passion.
Spell it out with clearly with actions of love.
Dance in the reign of King of the ages.
Promise your steadfast, immovable service,
Then hold in His beautiful power your faithfulness.
Show the whole world His symphony in you.
II.
If you ever wanted to write a together kind of song
Of friends or family or heroes or darlings…
If you’ve ever wanted to love someone else in the music,
Yet knew that your most heartfelt expressions
Were still so short of all they deserve from you… [click to continue…]
It’s the creator’s fantasy…
…to use the tools of the trade – words or paint or dance or music – to design the ultimate masterpiece.
…to turn passion into such artistic cleverness and inspiration into such adoration that mountains move, easels grow dark, and all other voices remain silent, at least for a while.
…to write the song to end all songwriting, or the story that all other stories are compared to, or the verse that contains the finest content of the heart.
Never gonna happen.
The heart is too large to be reduced to words or rhymes or phrases or meter.
The soul is too powerfully changing to be framed by one snapshot of expression.
The imagination is too delighted in the dance of dreaming to stop with one image.
The inspiration is too elusive and awe-inspiring to ever satisfy the poet that his work is done.
The Creator whose image we bear is too interesting to be limited to our vision-of-the-moment.
So we have the choice… [click to continue…]
To know I can rise to the dawn of a new day,
Having surrendered my fatigued sorrows to a night of rest…
To see my hope ascend with the sun
And feel the comfort that only Your presence can provide…
This is the story,
This is the song
Of a heart made glad by love.
To hear the sound of laughter in places reserved for mourning,
Knowing the troubles are lighter lately because You carry my load… [click to continue…]
Somewhere in the places where sighs give way to hope and promises sing to aching hearts, your soul waits for something different. More than the pleasure of a passing moment or those 15 minutes of look-at-me, you were created with a craving soul. “He has planted eternity in the human heart,” Solomon said, “but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end.”
One day – sooner rather than later – that craving will be satisfied. And not by what the pavement is made of or what the real estate market is like past the pearly gates. Not by something that resembles Sunday morning at the church house, Monday noon at the White House, or Friday night at the penthouse. Craving souls are smarter and deeper than that.
One day – nearer rather than farther – tired hearts, stale relationships and flyblown religion will give way to a new dawn. And at long last your soul will taste satisfaction. Ashes will give way to beauty. You’ll trade your mourning in for the oil of joy. You’ll wear a garment of praise – complete with dancing shoes – instead of a spirit of heaviness. In the satisfaction of the soul… [click to continue…]
It was a year ago today.
In one sense, as my Dad said yesterday, it has flown by. In another, it felt like a thousand years.
But if one thing has emerged from the past 365 days, it’s that when people or Bible writers talk about the “God of All Comfort,” I can say “Amen” and turn the pages with credibility.
But it didn’t start – or end – with the events surrounding my mother’s sudden death. In fact, the biggest lesson of all was that healing of the heart is a journey through time.
Translation: Don’t tell me how much comfort or encouragement you’re feeling in the funeral home. You have no clue yet about comfort. You’re still being buoyed and insulated by kind people and the truths of your faith.
Comfort – the real kind – comes later.
In the last year, I have been blessed to live what I have preached for years – that the words we use about a Heavenly Father who is who is able to empathize with our weaknesses and invites us to boldly approach a throne of grace are all true. And believe me, other than the promise of eternal life, I can’t think of a promise that is more vital.
How does He do it? If you’re the one just leaving the cemetery or the courthouse or the hospital, what can you expect? How does the Lord put the pieces back together? While every experience of loss – whether it is through death, rejection, forced job termination, or the death of a dream – is unique, I think I have found some common elements in the way our Heavenly Father brings about His healing. [click to continue…]
by Andy Wood on November 17, 2010
in 100 Words
In church Sunday…
One guy holds a guitar. Another guy, 14 months old, holds somebody’s keys.
One leads with structured, heartfelt songs. The other freely moves, but stays in touch with Mama.
One is concerned with decency and order – the other, with intimacy and relationship.
The one before me is saying a prayer. The one below me says “Dada” over and over again with love and joy.
With a plan and a band, one leads in worship. With white-blonde hair aimed in 20 directions and a smile aimed straight at me, the other models it with his delighted life.
(A puzzle… wrapped in a true story)
I was standing in the bank branch foyer the other day. It was lunchtime, and only two tellers were working, so there was a small line.
Waiting my turn, the man in front of me turned around, and I recognized him. He was an acquaintance from a former church where I had served. The truth is, the last we’d seen of each other in any meaningful way was on a rafting trip more than 10 years ago. We had a few minutes to catch up – not asking eternal-type questions mind you – just mainly the life-and-work stuff.
He had retired a few years ago, just in time for the stock market to crater. So he had figured out that the way out was the way back in, and had gone back to do some consulting.
I told him I am a teacher now for four different universities, soon to be five. I didn’t mention the part about being an aspiring author and counselor.
His back to the tellers, I had to tell him there was one who was available.
“Hello, Mr. Scott,” she said. It was the beginning of a powerful lesson.
Wow, I thought to myself. He must get by here a lot. He must be The Man. I wondered what it was like to have the fab bank teller know you as a somebody. [click to continue…]
Do you think God still speaks to people through dreams?
