unexpected answers

I share this with trepidation, because I fear it wil make me sound kooky--more than I already do. :-)

For many, many years I have stated, "I don't pray. I try, but it seems like I'm talking to myself. I don't see the point in it." Lately, this has changed. Why? Because I started getting answers. Not answers where I laid still & pondered for a good long while about what I was bringing up in prayer. More like the kind of answers where you barely get the question out & a bullhorn voice smacks you upside the head with the answer.

In my agnostic years, I would have assumed it was my subconscious talking. Who knows? It very well may be. I wonder at times if we don't all have the "rightness" of the world constantly in our subconscious waiting to be tapped -- or asked. An innate conscience. An inborn godliness. Whether I have a direct line to God way up on His Throne in His Heavenly Universe through His Son, or whether I have all of what I ever needed to know resting in my soul, waiting its turn to speak, I don't know. What I do know is that the answers I get never come from me directly. They never are a scientific conclusion after I review the facts. In fact, the latest one was an answer I did not want to hear. I'm still chewing on it. I don't want to obey the answer just yet. It's too big.

The first time this happened, I wrote about it here. The first answer brought with it a sense of calm.

The next time it happened was last week. I was exhausted from a completely overwhelming week, and I was flopping an incident around in my head that had happened earlier in the day. I prayed on the incident, asking for Christ's help in figuring out why I had reacted to someone new to my life in such a defensive way. Before I could even get through to the "How can I change my reaction?" part, I received an answer that came from way over in left field. The answer brought with it a sense of wisdom.

Last night, it happened again. I made a mental note in the evening that I was going to bring my anger to Christ in prayer that night, so when we all were on our way to sleep, I started to pose the question. "Dear Lord, I want so badly to get rid of explosive anger with Sassy --" I couldn't finish the statement this time, let alone get to the question. Here came another answer from past left field, you know, way out past left field, where you can't hear the game anymore or even see the stadium. The answer said, "Quit writing." That was it.

What do you all do? What do you all do that is a key part of your person? That is as intertwined in your identity as your face, your memories, your values? What kind of answer is that?

I was shocked. I don't know what to make of it. I asked. I received an answer. A loud and impatient one, at that. As if the answer was wondering if I would ever ask the question.

But I do not like this answer.

I tried to understand it a bit last night. It does make some kind of sense, though I doubt I'll ever understand it fully until I'm looking back. As Sassy has gotten older, I've found myself drawn to creating more for myself, which usually means writing. I have at least five book ideas going right now. I maintain 3 blogs. In my blog profile, I state it clearly: "The Tightwad Trainer loves to teach and lives to share information."

More accurately, perhaps, is that The Tightwad Trainer lives to raise children. This is as much a part of my person as writing is, as writing ever has been. Never in my life have I doubted that I would one day write a book. Never in my life have I doubted that I would one day raise children. Perhaps those two things are less compatible right now than I want them to be, and anger is my clue.

The thing about answers is that they always carry more meaning than their simple words convey. "Quit writing," was spoken in a way that carried with it, "Not forever, but for now. It's not time yet. There are bigger priorities."

Will I listen? More importantly, will I obey? Right now, I'm writing about the very answer that has told me not to write.

I've decided to mull it over a bit before I make any big decisions. When the answer is right, it always has a habit of not going away. If I choose to obey, I'll keep my blogs up, but they won't be maintained as they are now. I won't write to share information, only to organize my thoughts and release them, when necessary.

We shall see.