I had been raised in a semi-religious home and had accepted Christ when I was in my early teens, but I had never taken the depth of the subject very seriously. In later years, my technical approach to things (which was an offshoot of my father's electronics background) led me to question the validity of my religious leanings and prompted a re-evaluation of spirituality in general. Eventually, serious inspection and conspicuous evidence led me back to biblical roots where I began sorting through questions that still hounded me about faith and scripture.
At one point, I was pondering some theological elements as I was driving home from northern Virginia. As I passed through the Richmond area, I came to what seemed a resolution of the specific problem I was dealing with and felt a slight "rush" of satisfaction run through me. I took it lightly but wondered if the source, if any, might be personal or spiritual. Since I was aware of a difference between soul and spirit, I simply questioned myself, "I wonder if that was my soul or my spirit?" Not expecting any obvious response, I was hit by a stronger rush running through me. It caught me off guard, so I asked myself more deliberately, "Was that my… soul… (intentional pause), or was that my… spirit?"
The moment I said spirit, a huge rush ran through me and, for no apparent reason, tears began flooding from my eyes in a near-torrent though I was oddly filled with a sense of joy. I had a slight difficulty maintaining my vision on the highway as I was just pulling up to the I-95 Richmond toll plaza, but never appeared to be in any danger from the unusual release. I do recall swerving away from a manned tollgate over to a collection basket because I would have been embarrassed for them to see me in this saturated state. It struck me funny afterwards when I mused their possible response: "Gee, if things are that bad mister, keep the quarter!"
Though the inward and outward manifestations of this event were conspicuously spontaneous and uncontrived, I was still a bit skeptical and repeated my previous question a few more times down the road. Each time met with the same reaction, and there was a verse that began running through my head: "For God in His wisdom saw to it that the world would never find God through human brilliance…" (1 Cor. 1:21, Living Bible translation). I finally began to accept that I had just had a unique run-in (pun intended) with the Holy Spirit. The rush alone could have been anything, but the flood of tears was unprecedented, unexpected, and unmistakable. I also realized that the verse was advising me that I had gone as far as I could "analytically" go, that at some point the mind reaches a brick wall where it can go no further. From there, the Holy Spirit must lead us into new realms and new understandings where we can not only believe in God, but know Him. Due to my nature, I ultimately needed proof of that and God accommodated me.
Though I didn't know of any scriptural support at the time for what had transpired, I knew I had experienced a discernment between soul (our personal emotions and thoughts) and spirit (our connection with God and his revelations to us). I heard what I believe was the scriptural support years later from Hebrews 4:12, "For the word of God is living and powerful…piercing even to the division of soul and spirit…and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart." (NKJV)
This particular event served to solidify my faith into a knowledge more than a belief, but I continue to gather compelling tangible evidence for Christian perspective so that others who tend to be doubtful may know the reality of Jesus Christ, the biblical message, and its promises for us. Much of what I've discovered is included in my book, Prophets To Planets: Religion and The Real World, available through www.xlibris.com as well as through major online booksellers.
My music, on the other hand, is three things: a means of drawing closer to God through personal worship, an intentional process of learning more about Him through the research and documentation of songwriting, and a sharing of my testimony and expressions of faith. I can only trust that some aspect of this ministry will plant a seed in others just as others have planted fruitful seeds in me. I often consider myself a lazy harvester, but I figure I am at least out in the field where I will be continually prodded in the work at hand. Sometimes we just need a little accountability and encouragement to keep us going. In all efforts, God is my strength. Be encouraged, and let Him be your strength as well.
A FEW "MINOR" MIRACLES
One day when I was home from college, I was asked to chaperon for youth at a Baptist summer camp. I was still smoking at the time, but that didn't seem to be a concern for the pastor who had asked me to participate. Upon arriving at the rustic camp in the Shenandoah Valley, the first thing I did was sit down in a porch chair and light up a cigarette. One of the worst sore throats I can recall suddenly came on me. Not being prone to sore throats, it came as a complete surprise and prompted me to look up and half-jokingly remark, "If you feel that way about it, I won't smoke anymore!" I put the cigarette out, the sore throat gradually subsided, and I haven't smoked since. I can take a hint.
During my traveling musician years, my group had played a New Years Eve gig in Dover, Delaware. We had arrived late driving straight from Salem, Virginia and only had time to set up and play - no showers or dinner. On top of that, we weren't quite the music selection the people had expected being more rock than dance. I guess things went okay considering, and we finished the night, packed up, and proceeded to our rooms after snacking on some meager party leftovers. I had my two dogs with me and they normally had my camper van for a dog house, but the cold windy night was down close to zero degrees and there was no way to keep the van warm enough. I ended up sneaking them past the reception desk and up to my room. There I noticed that the poor construction of this new hotel was so bad that the wind was actually blowing the curtains with the windows closed! I tried to sleep fully clothed with my coat on and under the covers to no avail. I finally said the heck with it, sneaked the dogs back out to the van, and told the others I was going to head for home. Young and stupid, I guess.
Now get the picture: I had driven 8 hours straight from western Virginia to Delaware, setup equipment, performed, tore down, and was now driving toward home at 2am in the morning on New Years Day - starved and with a 1/4 tank of gas. I finally had to stop for a while just to rest, and had to leave the engine running for heat. When I woke up and continued about a half hour later with less than an 1/8 tank of gas, I was in the middle of nowhere heading towards the Bay Bridge, fearing the dogs and I might freeze if I ran out of gas, and foolishly hoping a gas station would be open. Suddenly about two hundred yards off the highway across a large field, I saw some dim lights and what appeared to be an old style, unlit sign sticking up. I turned down a narrow road and came to a small rustic store with a gas pump, and it was open! I gassed up and continued on my way, but the thought has always intrigued me that if I had gone back to that location the next day, there might be nothing there but an empty field. The idea of angels and their gas station made more sense than an actual old-timey station in the middle of nowhere open around 3:30am in the morning on New Years Day.
As a footnote, after getting across the Bay Bridge I could go no further and had to stop to sleep, again leaving the motor running for heat. When I woke up several hours later, it was light, I had no idea where I was, and I was famished. I had apparently pulled over right next to a hill, so I stepped out of the van to get a look around. Twenty feet above me at the top of the hill was a Howard Johnson's restaurant. On arguably the worst night of my life, I have to give God the credit for providing gas, food, and protection from possible carbon monoxide poisoning.
I was returning from northern Virginia on another occasion late at night when my van suddenly started shaking rather violently, most noticeably the steering wheel in my hands. It felt like a suspension problem so I pulled to the side of the road to check the tires and mechanics as best I could. No problems were apparent, so I attempted to resume my trip. Once I reached a speed of about 45MPH, the violent shaking began once again causing me to pull to the shoulder confused and discouraged.
I was out in no-man's land on I-64 between Richmond and Williamsburg at around 2am in the morning. I just wanted to get home but I didn't think prayer could handle a mechanical problem. Nonetheless and with no alternatives, I started up again increasing speed until the shaking began, then I began praying for God to smooth it out and just get me home. The shaking suddenly stopped. Relieved and a little in awe, I increased my speed to 55MPH and continued down the road until about 15 minutes later the shaking resumed. I prayed once again and again it stopped. This continued throughout the trip until I arrived at my mother-in-law's house in Norfolk's Bayview area, choosing not to push my luck (or rather blessing) all the way to my Virginia Beach home.
The next morning after some welcome sleep, I carefully drove the van up to a local service center a few blocks away. I got a call an hour or so later to return for a consultation. The mechanic asked me if I had indeed traveled around 70 miles that previous night. When I confirmed it, he proceeded to tell me that he had no idea how that was possible. The best I could gather from his comments, the front passenger wheel (not the tire) was unsecured with only one loose bolt barely dangling. How I had traveled all that distance and turned corners without the wheel falling off was beyond him. But I realized it was no longer beyond me. God's divine protection, along with at least one version of "praying without ceasing", is real and covers more than just organic blessings.
When my wife and I decided to build our dream house, as modest as its 1600 square feet would be, we found an incredible deal on a one-acre lakeside lot in a nice upper middle-class neighborhood. We bought the lot and went out on its banks to prayerfully claim it for our own and for God's purposes in our lives. However, after we had spent some time evaluating plans and the costs of building the home we wanted, it appeared to be beyond our immediate financial capacity. At that point, we sadly listed the lot for sale for actual appraised value. We didn't get one call! Wait a minute... a beautiful one-acre lot on a lake in a quiet upscale neighborhood one mile from the interstate, two miles from a major shopping mall, and one block from a private golf & country club in a major metropolitan area for under $55k. And no calls?
Amazingly, it was a few weeks later that we found the home design that
we could afford and the builder (in our own church, no less) who could
handle construction for us. We now have our beautiful home on that lot
today, and know without a doubt that God holds us to our word and our prayers.