In Reply to: Re: interesting question posted by Jo on February 10, 2005 at 16:57:45:
Hey Jo,
You're making me do a little soul searching here.
Let's see...I had a personal encounter, like Ray spoke about, at around 10 yrs of age when I discovered that every time I asked a question about life, the answer came to me. I was shaken by the fact that I had never been taught and had no way of knowing these things. I came up with three really tough questions about the veins in leaves, colors of butterflies and something about the stars. The fact that I still remember this incident after more than 40 yrs says something for its intensity. As the answers came to me I focused in on 'The Voice' 'till it was so loud and I spun around yelling "Who are you and what do you want from me?" Again came the voice, "I Am The Voice of Nature." My mother saw me going through this in the backyard and questioned what was happening.
It was Saturday, the next day came my cocoon time, the struggle. My father the atheist required an explanation as to why I thought it important before he would agree with me going to church. My mother the strict Baptist required an explanation if I wished to stay home...yet they both lived in exceptional peace and love...never fighting and sharing wholesome values.
That Sunday I looked at my dad and replied forcefully, "I'm going to Church!" He saw something in my attitude and said nothing. The bulletin handed out as we entered church always listed the title of the sermon, this one read, "The Voice of Nature."
I was struck dumb, literally unable to speak. It caused a little stir in Sunday school and my teacher passed it off as a sore throat. Later upstairs in the sanctuary my mother wondered what was up. The young Pastor gave his sermon and finished up by labelling 'The Voice of Nature' Jesus. He pursued, "The Voice of Nature" is speaking to someone here, as everyone stands, please come forward...
I looked at my mom and pointed at me and then the altar, she nodded approval. I went forward to receive the soft affirmations of this incredibly in tune young man. As he held my hands and prayed with me warm surges went down my arms and I would have fallen had I not been kneeling.
It wasn't 'till later in the afternoon that I got my voice back (and as all my friends know, it came back with a vengance.)
I was baptised a while later and started witnessing by about 12. I witnessed at school, with friends at church, at the airport etc.
Later I became Jr. Pastor of my church and wasn't filled with 'The Sirit' 'till yrs. later while in the Army, before I met the Family. That is another pregnant story... for another time.