This is a guest post from another Matt, Matt McWilliams. Matt is a world changer. Not in an arrogant kind of way, though. He believes we all are. He writes about changing the world through entrepreneurship, leadership, parenting, and more at www.mattmcwilliams.com
I am a visual learner. God knows that.
Every important message I’ve ever received from God has been in the form of a vision. Every so often, I have an intense, completely life-like vision that changes things. For example, The reason I am married to my wife, Tara, is the result of this type of vision. Other visions have led me to jobs, deeper friendships, and even to writing this today, something I never expected to do.
One vision, however, almost ruined me.
I’ve seen God twice. It was the exact same vision about two months apart, about six years ago.
Words can never do my vision justice, but imagine if you will the most beautiful landscape your eyes have ever seen. In front of you is a familiar place but yet…perfect. Green grass, a crystal clear lake in the distance, reflecting the perfect blue sky. To the right is a smooth, beautiful hill covered in the same green grass. To your left a dense, peaceful, cool forest with a stream full of mini waterfalls flowing through it. The sun’s rays seem to pierce the forest’s canopy in a perfect pattern.
And then…I appear.
I see myself not as I am, but as a child. It seems that I am seven years old. Old enough to know what it is going on, but not jaded enough to over think it. I know that I am seven or younger because my hair is still bleach blonde, having not yet turned to the dark brown hair I had two years later and still have to this day.
From my view, I see my blonde-haired seven-year old body running. I am running towards a man who is facing the distant lake, his back turned towards me. My arms spread wide and I feel a perfect breeze on every part of my body. I run and run and run, until suddenly…
I jump into nothingness.
I jump right at the man who is facing the other way. He isn’t even looking at me.
But he turns around in a perfectly timed whirl and catches me in mid-air. I am safe.
Dressed in white, this man has a face that cannot be described. It is the face of God.
His face is like our faces in its basic form and nature, but more…perfect. It’s glowing. It’s both invisible and easily identifiable as human. It is truly divine.
In one movement, God catches me and begins to spin me around. I am a child and my Father has my hands, spinning me.
Around and around.
Faster, faster, faster.
My body is parallel to the ground, arms extended, legs out.
We spin, never getting dizzy. The breeze lightly brushing my skin.
Our eyes connect. His eyes, like the rest of his face, are like nothing I have ever seen. They see everything. They see inside. They see the pain I’ve hidden from others, past and future. They see the lies I’ve told and the lies I will tell. They see how I’ve hurt others and how I will hurt even more people. They see the shame, the guilt, the wickedness.
And they still love me.
He still loves me.
Our eyes remain locked as we continue to spin.
The world around me is eerily still, the shapes of the lake, the hill, the trees of the forest not moving with me. We’re not dizzy. We just keep spinning.
Around and around.
And then…it stops.
It all stops.
I am back in my chair, twenty-eight years old at the time. The real world around me. Surrounded by concrete floors, brick walls, brokenness, and darkness.
Why? Why did it have to stop?
I wrestled with that for nearly six years. I never returned to that place. Six years without seeing God! How could He do that to me? I was a little boy and I went six years without seeing my Father. Dad, how could you do that to me?
My faith became shallow. My belief slipped away. I forgot all about my visions. I forgot all about the man who caught me and spun me, who saw everything inside of me and still loved me.
I gave up on God.
With the help of a counselor, I finally realized…
The reason why my vision stopped. The reason why it stopped right there, mid-air, eyes locked on my Father, in perfection.
He never stopped spinning me.
He’s spinning me right now.
He’ll never stop spinning me.
And though I forget all too easily, His eyes are still locked in mine. I am still spinning, free, childlike, and safe in His arms.
Question: Have you ever had a similar experience? What are some things you do to help remind you of God’s love for his children?