Go Tell Him I Love Him

Published on December 6, 2009 by CT in Blog, Stories

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Go Tell Him I Love Him

This is Part 1 of the Unseen Fruit of Obedience Series (Part 2: “Unseen Fruit of Obedience;” Part 3: “He Didn’t Even Notice“).

“Go tell him I love him.”

That’s what I think God said to me in my car yesterday afternoon.  I was on the way home from some filming, and the city was blanketed with the first snow of the year, which is just about the best thing ever for a guy who has lived in LA for the last 9 years.  I normally would throw on the radio to pass the time, but on this afternoon, I drove in silence, marveling at the wonder of snow, and creation, and God.

I was exhausted, and within sight of my home, when I drove past the little neighborhood market.  Light gray surrounded the building, as sky and ground all met together in the off-whiteness of the snow.  The store was lit, a small burst of warmth in a cold winter scene.  Neon shone forth from the windows in the bright words of “Beer” and “Wine.”

I was so excited to nearly be home; I couldn’t wait to get into a warm home with warm food.  And just as I passed this market, glancing over at the neon signs and the man behind them, that’s when God’s still small voice came to me:  “Go tell him I love him.”

I’ve heard this voice before.  In fact, I’ve been hearing God’s promptings for months now, and I’ve been ignoring them.  I’ve also been rationalizing them, asking myself questions about why God would ask me to approach random strangers, and was it actually God speaking to me in the first place, or could it be my own flesh or Satan trying to prompt me to share the gospel with someone, knowing I wouldn’t do it and then feel guilty about it.

For some reason, I stopped this time, and I drove back into the parking lot, got out of my car, and walked inside.  I approached the man behind the counter.

“Hi, how are you doing?” I said.

“Fine,” he replied as he smiled.

I went on:  “This may sound a little strange, but I was just driving by, and I was praying, and I think God told me to come tell you that He loves you.”

He looked confused.  “What?”

So I repeated the same story, ending with “and I think God told me to come tell you that He loves you.”

He still looked confused.  “I don’t know what you’re saying to me.”

“God?” I asked, thinking I could start more slowly.

“No,” he said.

I waited, trying to figure out if there was any way to move on from “God…no.”  Nothing came to me.  “Alriiiight, well have a good day!” was my final statement as I turned on my heel to head out the door.

This week we’ve been exploring what happens when we’re silent before God, giving Him room to share in the conversation instead of simply talking at Him in prayer.  On this afternoon, I don’t know what God was doing, if anything, with that man.  It wasn’t quite the fruit I would have expected His Spirit to work in that conversation

But there was finally some budding once more on the branch of my faith.  It seems the Spirit has been inviting me to abide in the Vine once more, and I’ve been unwilling to come close for a long time.  So it feels good to hear God’s voice again and actually respond to Him.  And maybe I need to spend some more time in the silence.

Question:  what have you heard when you have been silent before God?

  • http://www.samanthakrieger.com Samantha

    SO much, when I’m silent before him. I don’t have time to list everything but most recently was sending a FB message to a friend from high school who is very anti-God or though it seems through status updates, etc. I simply told her that God loves and cares for her (and that it wasn’t a Christian cliche). I told her about the love and forgiveness I’ve received in my church and from the Lord.

    At first I was really afraid what she would think and about her response. I haven’t received a response, but that’s okay. I’m just glad that God prodded me to do it and that I was obedient.

    I’ll leave the rest up to Him. I think solitude is one of the greatest ways- if not the best way that we’re sensitive to the Spirit.

    Beautiful story. Thanks for this post.

    • CT

      It’s funny how hard it is to do something like you did. And how easy it seems once we’ve done it. Thanks for sharing–it’ll encourage me the next time I want to pass when I hear the Spirit tell me something…

  • Paul Gustafson

    What I like about this story, Chris is that it doesn’t seem to have the “storybook” ending I expected it to when I began reading. Not to sound cynical or pessimistic – but I think it is a very realistic reminder that sometimes things don’t turn out as we expect or hope they will. Of course I would have enjoyed reading that because you did this, a conversation was struck up that lead to something more amazing – but the reality is that doesn’t always happen. What I do imagine though is that what you said to this store clerk has most definitely stirred something within his soul – and most of the time planting the seed is really all we get to be a part of in Gods master plan.

    Thanks for sharing!

    • CT

      Thanks for the note, Paul. And I hope you’re right about the stirring…

      Miss you guys. Have a good Christmas…

  • Debbie

    It'll be interesting to see the fruit your words to that man bears (and I suspect it will) when you get to see the results one day (as you stand with Jesus?). Wonder if you know how it encourages me to "see" someone act in faith. Here's the thing. Keep believing, in faith, that God knew what He was doing asking you to stop & tell someone he was loved by God. For some reason this is reminding me to pray for a wonderful Israeli I once met and had the pleasure of sharing time & God with a few years ago. He was frightened of God, a God he didn't believe in but did (he was conflicted). I told Him that someday God would reveal Himself to him. Then I wondered, was that God making that promise, or me? (My promise in this case would be useless — I can only make promises for God that will be fulfilled if they are ones He has told me to make.) Looking back, having read this, I'm thinking I better step up the praying for this wonderful man & his wife. I'll probably never see them again. On this earth. But I'm hoping I see them when I'm Home.