The next day, the words—“an instrument of revelation”—came to me. “Lord, is this what you want me to be?”
Yes, that’s right.
“What kind of revelation?”
And what kind of instrument. First, I want you to model the spiritual life. Live it deeply. Theology is not just an intellectual exercise. It must be grounded in an intimate relationship with Me, an intimate openness to My Word.
“Aren’t I already open, Lord?”
Yes, but you turn away. You know the problem. You hold Me at arm’s length and listen to Me only part of the time, and only partially, not as a whole person. You need to draw Me into yourself totally—live through Me—and let Me guide you totally.
“But that sounds miserable. I couldn’t have fun and enjoy life any more.”
No, it doesn’t mean that. You will find life perfectly pleasant. This is not a renunciation. It is an affirmation, a growing in a certain direction, in a certain domain.
This reminded me of saying a sad farewell, before getting married, to all I would be “giving up”—having my apartment as messy as I wanted, living on pizza, watching the Late Late Show. It’s amazing what a bachelor can cherish as the good life.
“Lord, what do You want me to do?”
Nothing dramatic. Just pause in the course of the day to take Me in. It doesn’t mean you have to interrupt other things you’re doing. But I will be co-present and a co-participant. Try that now, as you eat your lunch.
“Okay, Lord.” I drew Him in and unwrapped my sandwich. “Let me share this with You, Lord.”
That day I ate lunch “with God.” But most days I do not.