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A Talk With God
How is it already 11:37? I think to myself exasperatedly as I try (and fail) to fall asleep. Lately sleeping, which is usually a pretty easy task, has become extremely daunting. My brain won’t shut up. Did I study enough for that test? Did I remember to lay my outfit out for tomorrow? I can’t wait to graduate. I’m also kind of scared to graduate. What if I can’t make it in the real world? What if my singing career doesn’t work out? What if I end up with some boring, dead-end job? Should I start practicing to say, “Do you want fries with that?” And it goes on and on: endless, relentless, unchanging worry. So I begin to pray…
“Dear Lord in Heaven, I want to begin by saying thank you for all of the blessings you’ve given me today and everyday. Please continue to bless my mom, my dad, my grandma, my grandpa, my family, my friends, soldiers in Afghanistan, this country, Japan, You know what? Go ahead and bless all of the other countries, too… Please grant me peace, God…” and finally, somewhere along the way, I fall asleep.
When I awake, I’m not in my room.
Wait, am I awake? Where am I? The setting clears and I realize that I’m on a beach. My breath is taken away by the sight of it. I’ve never been anywhere or seen anything so beautiful.
The sun is setting with radiant gold, oranges, yellows, and reds. I can feel its warmth on my skin. The ocean is calm. A remarkable, endless blue. The blues get darker the farther away from the shore they go. I feel an urge to swim in it, immerse my body in its comfort. I look down and see the sand is almost white, it’s so fine. It, too, is warm underneath my toes. I look to the side of me and see tall, majestic mountains covered in green. They wrap around this beach and me, giving me a strong sense of security. They frame the scene before me. I am in awe.
It’s then that I look down at myself. I’m wearing shorts, and a flowing, soft, white tank top, no shoes. The breeze picks up and whisks around my long brown hair. I’m not wearing make-up, which is something that would normally leave me feeling self-conscious, but now allows me to feel free. I close my eyes and breathe it all in: this newfound comfort in my own skin, the breeze that caresses my face, the smell of the salt and fresh air, and the sound of gentle waves against the shore.
I stand this way for a long time, not wanting the moment to fade. Suddenly, I’m aware of someone else’s presence and my eyes pop open.
It’s God. I know that right away. I just know in the same way that we know the grass is green and the sky is blue. This is God, standing before me. He’s wearing a white robe that is also blowing in the wind. He is also barefoot. He looks like those pictures of God or Jesus we see in paintings. Long hair cut off at the shoulders, a clean face, and kind eyes. Instead of standing firmly on the ground like me, however, He hovers above it. He doesn’t say anything, He just looks at me.
“God?” I say in a tentative voice.
“Hello, Taylor.” He responds.
“Hi.” Brilliant. I’m standing in front of God Himself and all I can come up with is, “Hi?” I might as well have said, “I’m a big fan of your work…”
“God,” I continue. “Lately I’ve been really scared and unsure.”
“I know,” He says. Of course He knows, ya goof! You’re talking to God for Heaven’s sake!
“Right…” I say, a little sheepishly. “Could I maybe ask you some questions?”
“Of course,” He says.
“Okay, well… um… are things going to turn around for my mom? She’s been frazzled and upset, especially this past year, and she works so hard. She really deserves a break.”
“Yes, they will.” He says, very matter of factly.
A sigh of relief escapes my lips and my mind scrambles for more questions I could ask. I would freeze up at what could possibly be one of the most awesome moments of my life.
“Will I become a singer?” I feel almost selfish asking this one. I mean there are tsunamis in other parts of the world and wars going on and people dying of hunger and I’m standing here asking about my career.
“Yes,” is all He says. However, He says it with such conviction that at that moment I’m absolutely positive I will. It’s as if nothing, not a single thing, that happens for the rest of my days could stand in the way of me and my dream. Relief washes over me like an ocean wave.
I look around at the setting before me as I try, desperately, to think of more to say, to ask. Tears pierce my eyes in frustration and I want to kick myself for not being more prepared. He seems to sense this and another gust of wind settles around me, taking with it my frustration. I’m once again calm.
“Will you help the people of Japan?” My mind flashes to the terrible photos I’ve seen on the news. Homes destroyed, heartbroken people searching, desperately, for their missing families.
“Yes. They will be just fine,” He says.
As I stand here, wishing for more to say, I realize that there’s no need to question God of his intentions for me or the people of this Earth. His plans are already set in stone and worrying about them isn’t going to change them. It’s like that metaphor about the train and how we only allow ourselves to see a small portion of it sometimes because we are unwilling to change our perspective, which leaves us only wondering and worrying about where the train is going. But God, He can see the whole train, He knows where’s it’s going and He knows where it’s been. In fact, He is the driver. All that’s left for us to do is kick back and enjoy the ride. A verse my dad showed me from the Bible, Proverbs 3:5, comes to mind suddenly: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding.”
However, because He’s standing there and seems to be waiting for me to say something, I simply ask for good measure, “Will everything be okay, Lord?”
“Yes,” He says simply in return. Then, He begins to move toward me and I feel tears sliding peacefully down my cheeks. He envelops me in a hug I could write songs about and I sob softly into His shoulder because my heart is more overwhelmed with joy and happiness than ever before.
“Worry no more, my daughter,” He says. “Everything will be okay, I promise.” And I believe him.
Then he says, “I love you, Taylor.”
“I love you, too,” I say in return.
We stay that way for a while and I know that this is so much more than a dream. This is a gift sent to me from Jesus and I will never forget it.
He gently lets go and turns around, starting for the ocean. I watch silently as He is lifted up into the sky by a light and disappears, leaving me with more peace than I have ever known.
Even though He is already gone, I know He can still hear me as I whisper, “Thank you. Amen.”