Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Illustrate the meaning of “All that Glitters is Not Gold” (without using the actual phrase or literal example). (01/24/08)
TITLE: The Shizzle Dizzle
By Sally Hanan
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When an attractive brochure arrived full of promises of anointing, healing and a life that would never be the same again, I knew I was ready for the next obvious step—conferences! Pushing protesting kids into the car, we took many road trips that year. Smelly motels and fast food were the destinations of preference, and throughout each day I sat at the feet of (more like 1/4 mile away from) renowned speakers. They imparted their knowledge and experience into my starving spirit as my son played his Gameboy under his legs and my daughter leaned sideways in the chair while pretending to be awake.
I would hang around at the end of a talk in the hopes that I could get some sort of touch from God or, even better, a word from God. Once, I even got a free book that a prophetic speaker signed for me, but even up close, it didn’t happen. I’m still not really sure why I thought that this would give me depth; to be honest, I think it was more the desire to have my dreams recognized and confirmed by someone important.
The return home was full of happiness and determination to do better, to read my Bible more frequently, to pray in that never-ceasing manner that the super-saints seemed so capable of doing. I’d regale other groups at church with the stories I had heard and I’d encourage them and pray for them and…within about two weeks I’d be back to where I was before, thumbing through e-mails to find the next inspiring event.
After about 12 months of this, God finally drew me aside. There was no mistaking his voice.
“Stop feeding on others. They spent a lot of time with me to have the depth they now have. That’s where you need to get your depth from—me.”
I’d like to say that since the voice of God spoke, so clearly and so convictingly, that I am now the perfect model of depth in Christ. I could lie and pretend that I am; after all, we Christians like to only admit weakness after conquering it; but I’m still not a seraphic saint. I have learned a valuable lesson though. Sometimes man shouts so loudly and attractively that God’s smaller voice gets lost. I had focused on what my eyes could see instead of
the cherished whisper
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