Our Father's Heartbeat
Our Father's Heartbeat
L EARNING T O L ISTEN
It has now been thirty years since I first opened the pages of the Bible and began my incredible journey homeward. Through those years I have learned many valuable lessons but it was not until I fell in love with the Father that I saw how those pearls of truths, once separate tidbits of divine revelations, could be strung together into the beautiful necklace our Father intended the Scriptures to be.
My journey back to the Father began from birth, and even though I was unaware of it at the time, it became a pull stronger than gravity itself. We all long to know where we have come from, what our purpose for being here is, and where are we going. The Bible holds the keys to those questions but it also holds the keys to our heart's desire, which is to go home where everything made sense. There really is no place like home.
In 1995, I was touched by a revival called the Father's Blessing. Though it has impacted the lives of our family forever, for many years, I never fully understood the significance of its meaning. But in 2001, that changed when I walked into Bill Johnson's church in Redding, California, tired and worn out from ministering.
It had been a very busy year. I had been on the road ministering with Randy Clark, the pastor used by God to spark the Father's Blessing (also known as the Toronto Blessing), for more than 200 days a year for three years. I was tired and in need of spiritual refreshing; it was ironic that someone who ministered to thousands to receive spiritual refreshing would himself end up in such a dry and thirsty place.
I asked Bill if there was anyone there that could pray for me. I think Bill could see the burnout that was taking place within me because in a couple of hours I found myself sitting with two women Bill had encouraged to pray for me.
We exchanged pleasantries back and forth for a while until one of the women looked at me and asked, "Rex, what does the Father look like to you?"
It seemed like a simple enough question but I really couldn't think of anything to say. My mind went blank as I tried to form an answer - I had no clue what the Father looked like.
A couple of pictures finally came to mind. I remembered visiting the Lincoln Memorial where Abe is sitting there in that famous pose looking out over the vastness of the city. I recalled looking up at him wondering what he was thinking. He looked so immoveable, so impressive, that even if I had a question for him he seemed too preoccupied, too lost in lofty thoughts to give me his attention.
Then, strange as it may seem, I thought of Captain James T. Kirk of the Starship Enterprise. The captain who sat in his chair as the galaxies flashed before his eyes, commanding Sulu to go into warp drive. Kirk had his eyes on things I could not see and seemingly had no time for me - he was consumed with things I could never imagine.
I don't know how long I sat there not saying anything, but it was long enough that the woman repeated the question. I held up my hand and said, "I understand the question but I don't know the answer. Jesus I know, that person of the Godhead who came and radically loved the life back into me, that Jesus I know and love. All through the Old Testament I searched for Him only to find vague references, but one day I came to the New Testament and I read the words of life and they became life to me. I know Jesus, and I know the Holy Spirit - not some vague mist but the Person of the Holy Spirit that often comes and overwhelms me with the love of God while directing me and keeping me. But the Father! I've never really thought about Him."
The ladies listened as I replied to their qu