My story of attuning to God’s voice

It was the early 2000’s and I was part of a small gathering of Christian co-workers in Berlin. As we opened the Bible in John 14, the 5th verse jumped out at us. Jesus says, “If you love me, you will obey My commandments.” I listened as my co-workers vulnerably shared about some tension they sensed in this verse. In their hearts it felt burdensome, as if they had to prove their love by obeying. I’d always seen the verse from a different angle. To me it was a promise that because we love Jesus, we’ll always be growing in obedience. As we shared our differing interpretations, the discussion leader pointed out that our family of origin can have an impact on the way Scripture impacts us.

I went to bed that night thinking, “Whew! What a relief that I’m from such a healthy family. My dad hugged me every day and always told me he loved me. Both my parents were on my side no matter what. I’m so sorry for my poor friends. They missed out on what I had, and now they have this struggle to know they’re loved by God. What a relief that I get God’s unconditional love!” My self-congratulatory reasoning whirred like a fly wheel, reinforcing this familiar and comfortable narrative of myself as a blessed individual from a good family who knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’s loved by God and others. “How kind of God to be slowly bringing my friends to join me in the restful place of God’s love!”

Dave on his mom’s lap next to his brothers

Many of us prefer this kind of idyllic perspective on our childhood. We know our parents weren’t perfect, but we’re most comfortable painting a rosy picture of them, and concluding that “I’m a well-adjusted person, who doesn’t need much help from others.” I remembered my dad throwing thousands of football passes to me every afternoon in our yard, and my mom teaching me to make Christmas decorations with great patience. Those stories were true and wonderful, but they can mask other shameful memories that don’t reflect so well on my parents. Some of you might also look at your past through rose-colored glasses. Sadly, this Pollyanna perspective can lead us to feelings of superiority, and the confident air of “having it all together.” That is, until it becomes clear that we don’t…

My fairy tale version of life stayed largely intact until my 40’s, when I started to feel overwhelmed by the anxiety that swirled just under the surface of my life. When personal conflict arose, I would go blank. When I couldn’t keep up with work, I felt confused and frantic. And when I sensed that it was time to perform in a very public way, my anxiety was almost paralyzing. I tried to hide these internal battles and look chill and composed, but I knew that was a lie.

Photo credit: Mitch Finn (Unsplash)

In my desperation, I was compelled to start listening to God’s perspective on this problem. Over the last two blog posts, Don has painted a picture of the breadth of ways God speaks. I’d like to share four ways the Lord spoke into my quiet crisis.

Four ways the Lord spoke into my quiet crisis

First, God spoke to me through my story. As I opened up to my friends, Jorge and Don, about the stress I was feeling, one thing became clear. When I felt that I’d let God down, I’d work extra hard to be in His good graces again so I could experience His closeness. It was evident that I didn’t “get God’s unconditional love,” To discover why, I had to set aside the fairy tale version of my past and open up to a truer story. I hadn’t been loved perfectly. In fact, there were some clear conditions on the kind of person I needed to be to carry our family’s “Cox Banner.” I saw what happened as other family members diverged from the unwritten rules of conduct. That was a path of alienation from our love. It was a humbling blow to see the effects of sin in my family of origin, yet it shed light on my anxieties and fears. The truth came home. I didn’t understand God’s unconditional love at all. I actually thought that love is something we have to earn. Thanks to God’s voice, I now had a grasp of the scope of my problem.

Photo credit: Maegan Martin (Unsplash)

Next, God spoke to me through a book by Dane Ortlund called Gentle and Lowly: The Heart of Christ for Sinner and Sufferers. Chapter by chapter I was directed to meditate on Scripture passages about God’s love for believers. Seeing His love surrounding people in all their highs and lows, I started to hope that I too can be wrapped in God’s compassionate arms even during the moments when failure or shame seek to isolate me. As reflected by the best of earthly parents, God doesn’t withdraw when I’ve failed. He moves towards me when I’ve fallen and feel ashamed. This growing awareness of God’s love stuns me. As one hymn puts it:

“Oh the deep, deep love of Jesus, vast, unmeasured, boundless, free,

rolling like a mighty ocean in its fulness over me.”

Third, God has been speaking to me through my wife, Jennifer. As I’ve traveled this journey of rediscovering God’s love, I’m needing to uncover areas of fear, shame and sin, lurking under the respectable surface of my life. I’m learning that I’m safe bringing my brokenness to her. As I do this day by day, she doesn’t pull away but consistently moves closer to me. In turn, we both move closer to Jesus. Through Jennifer, God communicates His assurance that I can bring my real self to the light. Of course, her embrace will never be as gloriously unconditional as His, but it’s a tangible representation of His invitation to transparency and depth.

Painting by Virginia Carvalho

Like a cherry on top of all this rich communication, God has also been speaking to me through art. In our April blog post, Virginia relates the story behind her painting of an embrace between a father and a son. I now carry the mental image of that painting with me wherever I go. When I’m tempted to doubt God’s love I imagine her painting: the Father leaning into me as I lean into Him... His face resting on the top of my head, keeping me safe… my ear pressed against His chest, hearing the steady heartbeat of unconditional love… no hurry, just closeness. To me the kite in the painting represents what I’ve done that day. Whether it included accomplishments that soared high, or if my “kite” has been caught in a tree, and the best we could do was to manage to rip it down. None of that matters when I’m enfolded in my Father’s embrace.  

God speaks today. He awakens us to truth about ourselves and our backstories through the jolts of life circumstances. He comforts and challenges us through the astounding words of Scripture. He assures us through the kindness of loving spiritual friends and family members. He speaks rest to our souls through art. Don’t be fooled into thinking He’s silent today. Consider opening your heart more fully to this journey of communication and communion with Him!

Written by: Dave Cox