Archives For Guidance

I used to be a partner and employee of a successful software company. Eight years ago I heard God tell me to leave it. But he didn’t tell me where to go.

I asked five friends for help. We met and prayed together monthly for a year. In the end we all agreed I should leave; and we had no idea where I should go.

So I left the company and prayed more earnestly for direction. In fact I pleaded.

I heard nothing. Silence.

Have you ever felt this same desperate desire for God’s direction, longing for a word?

Let me tell you what God did for me. Continue Reading…

Several readers raised questions in response to, I Long for a Calling Driven church. The key questions (so far) are:

  • What does it look like to “hear” God through the people God sends?
  • How do we balance a need for Structure with following our Calling?
  • How do we balance caring for the needy with following our Calling?

Before answering these questions, let me put some meat on the bones of a Calling Driven church. A Calling driven church will balance structure and Calling.*

A Calling Driven church is neither a spineless jellyfish, so under-whelmed by structure that it is driven by the tides (and stings whatever it finds), nor is it a backbone-entombed tortoise, so over-whelmed by structure that its moves are ponderously slow (and it hides from whatever it finds). We need structure and Calling.

Hearing God through the people that he sends

When we seek God for direction, he sometimes answers with a word (like when he tells Abraham to leave his homeland), and he sometimes answers … with a person.

  • King Saul asks God for direction. God answers by sending a person. Jonathan attacks the enemy—almost single handedly—until Saul’s army joins him in a huge victory (1 Samuel 14). Saul wanted a word; God sent a person.
  • When the Israelites are threatened under Persian rule, God sends Esther. She is “brought for such a time as this” (Esther 4:14), and she saves God’s people from annihilation. God’s answer is given through the Call of a person.

Good leaders are aware of structural needs, and they seek God for help with staffing, finances, people, and buildings. But obsession with known needs can distract us from—even blind us to—God’s new directions which may be outside our agendas.

God often answers our requests for help by sending people who see God’s direction outside our known needs, structure-oriented agendas, or even outside our missions:

  • The 12th century Church leaders were concerned with the Crusades, a Renaissance, rediscovery of Aristotle, and science. God sent them Francis of Assisi.  He brought return to simplicity, imitation of Christ, and care for the poor.

Pastoral leaders need to recognize God’s answers when he speaks on issues outside our known needs and missions. If we ignore God’s answers through the people he sends—myopically focused on our own issues—we become tortoises, overcome by structure.

God brings us people who bring us directions we never knew we needed. Continue Reading…

At a prayer group in 1988, I felt urged to pray over a man. As I prayed I felt God say, “If this man left this prayer group, it would make no difference. And that is a tragedy.”

Instantly I felt grief for this unappreciated man. I prayed, “Yes Father, it is a tragedy. I feel so sorry for him.”

Immediately I heard God respond, “No, his life is not the tragedy —I’ll take care of him. The tragedy is the loss to this body because he was not allowed to offer what I put in him to give. This body will never be what it could have been.” Continue Reading…

I’m discovering that meditation is one of the most powerful ways to hear God. No, “powerful” isn’t a strong enough word. Meditation may be the most profound, deep, life-changing, heart-enriching way to hear God.

But there is a problem. I picture meditation—maybe you do too— as something kind of weird. It’s a person dressed in leotards sitting in an awkward position humming nonsensical syllables, emptying the mind, thinking of “one hand clapping.” It’s the mystic or the desert monk escaping from reality. It seems totally disconnected from real life.

But everyone is a meditation expert. We meditate all the time. We don’t know it because we call it something else, and we slip into it accidentally. Continue Reading…

Thirty years ago I lived and worked in London with several other men. We were involved in campus ministry and the charismatic renewal. One housemate—let’s call him Tom—spent a couple hours in discussion with Rev. John Stott. When Tom returned from his visit, he was incredulous.

During Tom’s meeting, they discussed prayer. Stott claimed that his most significant times of prayer involve prayerful reflection with God. As a charismatic, Tom preferred exuberant worship with contemporary songs and praying in the Spirit.

We considered Stott’s “prayer” of reflection to be too intellectual, too shallow, too unenlightened, and perhaps unspiritual. We chuckled.

In fact, I’d say we snickered.

By the end of his life, Time Magazine identified Stott as one of the 100 most influential people in the world; he had written over 50 books; and he had helped hundreds of thousands—perhaps millions—of people. And we twenty-something neophytes snickered at his shallowness.

Thirty years later, I’m rethinking spiritual reflection, and I’m finding it rich. Stott was oh-so-very right, and I—once again—was oh-so-very wrong. Spiritual reflection is one of the deepest ways to connect with God that I’ve ever experienced.

I love to brainstorm, to whiteboard ideas, and to creatively go after innovative thoughts. I love doing this with friends for practical decisions, so I tried it with God.

I find I love it. Spiritual reflection is moving me closer to God, and I’m hearing his voice. Continue Reading…

When we think about the tests of God, most of us shudder. Yet I believe that they can be a key to Hope and Joy. Let me explain.

I began flying lessons in 1997. These lessons taught me to take off and land, to navigate using aviation charts, and to communicate with air traffic control.

I particularly liked learning to land.

On my second flight, my instructor Jayne pulled the throttle to idle and announced that my engine had just died. She asked what I was going to do. Throttling her was not an option because I hadn’t yet learned to land. But I was strongly tempted.

Soon a pattern emerged. She’d kill the engine, I’d want to kill her, and we’d practice standard engine-restart procedures, and I’d look for a place to land. Then we would circle down to the landing site until Jayne said we would have made it (or not). Then she’d re-throttle the engine, we’d climb, and we’d review what I had done.

Jayne drilled the engine-out procedures so thoroughly into me that I could have done them in my sleep, though I never tried. Continue Reading…