I also did not believe that it was possible for God to tell me what it was He wanted me to do. Oh sure, I knew that I could read His Word and learn of the things that He had shared with the prophets and apostles in the Bible. But, never in my wildest dreams did I think He would talk to me personally on a personal level about personal decisions.
On an intellectual level I finally developed a belief in God, in Christ and in the purpose for my life. I was baptized and covenanted to take the name of Christ upon me, to always remember Him and to keep His commandments. I understood that if I sinned (and I would sin) that I could repent and receive the grace and forgiveness of God. It all made perfect sense and I lived my life accordingly. I was good, kind, and charitable. By any Christian definition, I was saved.
But, I traveled a rocky road, leaning on my own understanding and never, never accepting the will of God in my actions. It is impossible to accept the will of God if you refuse to ask for or listen to it when it does come.
Three failed marriages and a shattered "life" later I found myself alone in Sacramento. And then "it" happened. In one brief moment and with no more than a two minute prelude I was told exactly what God wanted me to do.
It was February 10th, 2005. I was at the bus stop waiting to begin my morning commute and a recently formed ritual began to play itself out. The bus pulled up and the door opened. I waited as a disabled bus rider rose from his seat in the "priority seating area" and made his way to exit the bus before I could board.
His name was Bruce. I had met him four years earlier as a customer where I worked. He was a stroke survivor. His right side was paralyzed which caused him to walk in a most awkward and jerky fashion. He had aphasia from the stroke meaning that he had a very limited vocabulary and with the few words he did have, he would yell to make his point or get what he wanted. And, he could no longer read or write. He was loud, obnoxious and lacked patience in everything. Because we traveled the same bus routes we ran into each other often. I spent years avoiding him.
But I eventually noticed a mellowing in his nature, his behavior and his speech. He had made obvious changes in his appearance and his demeanor. Honestly, he had become pleasant to talk to and my heart had begun to soften towards him. For many mornings since our paths had begun to cross, he would step from the bus and greet me.
"Good morning, sweetheart," he would say.
I would smile and respond with a cheerful, "Have a good day at work."
I would then step aside for him to pass and clear the way for me to board. This was our routine, our ritual until that day early in February. This day changed everything forever.
I woke to a shadow of anticipation and foreboding mingled with joy that hovered near me as I walked to the bus stop. I prayed for the sensation to subside as I found it to be very disconcerting. When the bus pulled in I saw the shadow of my "new morning friend" as he moved from his seat. As he came through the door he held out his hand. In it was a small scrap of yellow legal-pad paper.
He smiled broadly as I reached to accept the paper. I must have had quite a look on my face because he eagerly explained himself. "That's my number," he said smiling broadly. "That's my number. You can call me."
I mumbled thank you and hurried to board the bus. I had barely stepped aboard and shown my pass when that familiar sense of foreboding mixed with joy came upon me most magnified and overwhelming. My body could not sustain the sensation and as I began to crumble I caught hold of the rails beside me. I looked to the floor but what opened before my view was not of this world.
In the seconds that followed I received clear vision of a future, Bruce's future and mine. It developed like a conduit from the present and outward from where I stood. I did not grasp the details of life on earth as they flew quickly from view but everything paused in my approach to the throne of God. There he was, standing beside the Savior and conversing. I could sense that my focus was not being called to look upon Christ but upon this man with whom He spoke. I saw my disabled friend, but he was whole, complete and bright in countenance. He was brilliant, full of love, wisdom and compassion.
But mostly, the part that I have never forgotten was the fullness of joy as he stood beside the Savior, at His right hand. Both of them turned to greet me, to welcome me. Without words or any form of communication which I could describe, I felt the Savior place my future (not just my hand) in the care and keeping of this wonderful man.
God told me exactly what it was I was to do and I nearly collapsed at the message. I could never describe the fullness of joy except to say that it was overwhelming. I regained awareness of my surroundings and stepped to my seat. I sat there and rehearsed what I had just seen. I was amazed at the sureness of the knowledge that my husband had just been chosen for me, by God himself.
I knew what God wanted me to do and for the first time in my life I would be doing it.
exactly what it was you were to do,
you would be happy doing it
no matter what it was.
What you're doing
is what God wants you to do.
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