Lessons learned

I have learned a lot of stuff in the 11 years I have been in a relationship with God. I have un-learned a lot of stuff as well. I have learned stuff that has been an exciting privilege to learn, and I have learned stuff that has not been so much fun. Mostly, the stuff I have learned about God has been pretty exciting, and the stuff I have learned about myself is the stuff I might have preferred not to know! If you can indulge me long enough, I thought I would share one or two of the things I have learned and un-learned over the last decade. They are not intended to be hugely inspiring; just some thoughts and ideas that I have picked up along the way.

Listening to God is something that has to be learned

I never used to know how to listen to God. I went through the first few years of my faith never really being sure of what God was saying. I would pick up my Bible and flick through it, hoping for something to leap out at me. Then when something did, I would convince myself that it only happened because I was looking for it, and it wasn’t God. All through the Bible, when God spoke to people, it seemed pretty definitive. It didn’t seem reasonable that He would hold off on communicating with me if I didn’t flick to the right verse. And then when I would pray, I’d try to figure out what God might be saying, and I would get all confused between what was God and what was me. He’s the God of the universe. If it could be so difficult for me to distinguish God’s thoughts from my own, then that gave me my answer – it was just me, conjuring up in my mind what I hoped God might want to say to me.

I went to a workshop at a church in Belfast some years back. It was all about learning to listen to the voice of God. I won’t go into the details – that at the very least is another blog post. But I learned that there were things I could practice and learn in order to get better at listening to God. That it wasn’t down to the random chance of opening my Bible on the right page, or my ability to identify a random thought in my head as belonging to God. I learned that God could speak to me in a host of different ways – through pictures and images, through conversations, through dreams, through scripture. I just had to learn how to tune in. And that brings me to the second major thing I learned.

God loves to speak to me even more than I want to speak to Him

This is probably one of the hugest, most faith-stirring things I have ever realised. How many times have I prayed, and quite literally begged God to speak to me, show me some insight, give me a clue that He is there, involved in my situation, that He has the answers? If I plead enough, surely God will speak to me? I’m not keen on that approach any more. Because what I learned is that God loves me infinitely more than I could ever love Him – because He IS love. And because of His love for me, His desire to speak to me, to engage with me, to be part of my life, is so much greater than my desire to hear from Him. I can’t compete with God – He wants to speak to me so much more than I could ever want to hear from Him. So I don’t have to beg him and plead with Him – it’s not dependent on me getting the right words, or praying in a particular manner. He’s always speaking. I just need to listen more.

I learned that I am often very rude to God

I’m still trying to learn this one! I do it often – I sit down to pray, and I list God my complaints. I tell Him all my woes, the things I’m unhappy with in my life, my frustrations – all those little things that seem petty in the grand scheme of the world, but can be a huge deal in my own life. I tell God I’m going to leave these things at His feet. And then I usually do two things. I walk away and I pick them all right back up again, which not only shows a lack of willingness to leave them with God, but is also extremely rude when I’ve asked for His help but then refuse to hand things over. The other thing I often do is I walk away before I’ve given God a chance to respond. If I did that in conversation with a friend, it would be incredibly rude! So I’m trying to learn to be better – to express my feelings, worries, frustrations to God, but then to listen to His response. And when I leave things with Him, not to take them back again, but to trust Him.

There is something immensely beautiful about stepping out into something new when you are certain of God’s timing

Learning to listen to God has its advantages! It means that you can be certain when you feel that pull on your heart to step into something new. And it means you can be entirely dependent on God’s timing. I’ve had situations before when I’ve felt God call me into something, but I’ve known that He wants me to wait a while. I’ve held off until God has indicated to me that the timing is right, and I should step into this new thing. There is something immensely beautiful about that process. When you step into something confident in God’s timing, you get to see all the amazing ways that God can work in so many areas. Everything seems to come together, and you have utter assurance of being in the right place in the right time. And it means that even if times do get tough, you can work through it, because you know that God is right there in the middle of it all.

God will never call you to a journey without equipping you with everything you need

This has been a profound and ongoing lesson for me. I’ve seen God’s provision in amazing ways over the last 11 years. Particular in relation to my finances. A couple of quick examples. Queen’s University had sent me final demand letters for my fees - £500 that I didn’t have, and couldn’t access anywhere. I had until the Friday to pay, otherwise my dissertation wouldn’t be marked and I wouldn’t be allowed to sit my finals. Two friends and I prayed. Thursday morning, there was an envelope in my pigeonhole with £200 cash. Amazing. We prayed again. Next day, final demand day, there was another envelope in my pigeonhole with £300. I paid my fees by the 12pm deadline, and sat my exams the next week. Another example – God had called me very clearly to move to South Africa, to study and work in Cape Town. I had countless prophetic words about going, from total strangers – plus God had spoken it directly to me that I was to go. I gave in my notice, and bought a non-refundable flight. 3 weeks before I was to leave, I still had no money for tuition fees, living expenses, travel. I was in a panic. And God spoke very clearly and reminded me that He would never call me to a journey without equipping me with everything that I needed. The next day, a lady I had met only once previously gave me a cheque for £5000. By the time I left, I had £10,000 in my account – everything I needed and more.

God is not to be treated like a holy ATM machine

I learned this in my second and third years in South Africa, when the £10,000 had ran out, and I was praying for provision, and suddenly I wasn’t seeing it the way I had got used to. I think it had got a little easy for me. For several years, I’d struggled financially, and when I prayed, I was blessed with financial provision. Now things were different. I learned that God is not some kind of holy ATM machine, that we insert our prayers and out pops the cash. I learned a different kind of dependence on God that year. I learned the value of sharing life with other people. My friends and I were all broke, and money goes further when you stick together, so out of necessity and without even realising it, we built community. We shared our food, helped each other out when we were stuck. Money was tight, but friendships were strong, in a way that they may not have been if money had been there. It was a different kind of lesson, and not an easy one, but one I enjoyed and am glad of. Compared to now, when I panic every month at the thought of paying all my bills, despite being better paid than I ever have been before, life seemed less stressful back then, when my comfort and security came from God and from other people, rather than from the money I had in my bank account. 

I still can’t marry this up with poverty in the world

I’m learning this lesson every day, and I haven’t figured it out yet. I look at my life, and it is one of immense privilege. I have a wonderful home, solid education, good job, I’m keeping my head above water financially, I’ve travelled, gained experience. I am immensely privileged. I have good friends in Kenya who love God, are faithful to Him, trust Him for everything. And life is so difficult for them. Everything is a struggle. Putting food on the table, putting the boys through school, paying for medical attention – everything is difficult. God speaks to them just as much as He speaks to me. God is as invested in their lives as He is in mine. And yet there is a difference. An injustice. My sister and I travelled in Tanzania for a few weeks last year, and we met these Rasta guys on a beach. We hung out with them for about a week. I think I learned more about community in a week from those guys than I have from many Christian churches and communities in Ireland. They share what they have. No-one ever goes without. If someone is struggling, they will all get together and support that person. No-one considers what he owns to be ‘his possessions’ – they belong to the group, free to share, free to use, pass around. They are utterly interdependent on their friends. I don’t agree with the philosophy of their faith, but I like how they live community. Maybe what I learned from those guys is that what you have is unimportant. You can live in either abject poverty or relative wealth and still enjoy community. That doesn’t make abject poverty ok, or remove any of the injustice of it. But it does show the value of that wonderful kingdom concept of community, and its ability to surpass our financial and material positions.

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