What does God Sound like?

Once in a while people come up to me to tell me that they have read my book and how they felt about it. Those are special moments. It impacts me to hear how God touches other people through our story. Sometimes people would share bits and pieces of their life or they ask questions. Sometimes they give me a hug and a “God bless you”! Usually it’s followed by a “Say hi to your son!”

It’s beautiful. I love these touch points where our souls interact and our spirits unite with the Father. It feels like being part of a piece of art made by the Father himself. I imagine him standing back, looking at the work of art and pondering. I’ll include this detail to surprise her. This will make her happy. I’ll add another touch. Another key. Yet another blessing. I love these kisses from a loving God.

Interestingly, I get one question more often than any other. The conversation would go something like this:

• I read your book.
• Awesome! Did you like it?
• Yeah, I did. (Shares something personal.) But I have one question, though.
• Ok, go ahead.
• In your book you say that you heard the audible voice of God.
• That’s right. Only once, though, but I did.
• Yeah… so I’m kinda wondering… What did he sound like? Did he have my accent?

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had this conversation – in several countries and languages! It amazes me, especially the part of God having someone’s accent.

What does God sound like? Does his voice sound like a trumpet? Is it more like the sound of heavy rain or rolling thunder? Surely, it would have to be like a roaring lion, right? Yeah, that would make sense.

I had been crying for hours, pouring my heart out, screaming out my pain, my disappointment, my fears, my anger. I had been yelling at Father God, letting him know how I felt about everything. I was broken. Shattered into a million pieces. I was not ashamed to be yelling at my Father. Just as I would encourage my little boy to express his feelings to me, I knew that my Papa God would receive me and cherish this intimate moment between us. He would not break this bruised reed or snuff out my feeble fire. He would contain me.

After a while I had no more tears left. I sat quietly in my office chair, my feet resting on the desk. I was empty, out of words. That’s when he spoke to me. The earth did not quiver. The windows remained intact. I still had my feet on my desk.

It was an ordinary conversation, no poetry nor commandments involved. We just talked. He answered every question that I had and reminded me of his promises to me. I told him that I held him responsible for the life of my son. As if he didn’t know.

No fear, no shame. It was as easy as talking to my husband.

What does God sound like?

I don’t know. I can’t say.

All I know is how he made me feel.

He poured into my soul.

I felt complete.

I’ve only heard his audible voice once, but I still hear him every day. Sometimes he reveals his secrets through my kids or through friends. Like the day when my son ran past me, giggled and said: “Oh, by the way: those prophecies? You should write them down. They will happen in 10-20 years. You need to write them down to remember.” How did he know? His friend told him. Holy Spirit loves to engage us in what the Father is doing.

Sometimes God will let us know through his presence. Of course he is always with us, but sometimes his presence will be almost tangible, and his spirit dwells with us.

I was walking through a mall with my husband and one of my kids. All of a sudden it felt like I stepped into a cloud, and I knew it was the Holy Spirit. I asked my family if they felt anything, and my son said: Yeah, we just stepped into the presence of God. We discussed what to do about it, and we decided to pray for as long as we felt the presence. We went back and forth through the hallways before all of us suddenly stopped. We looked at each other and knew that we were done. The presence was gone, but we felt peaceful. As we came out of the mall we went straight to the nearest pedestrian crossing and pushed the button. As we waited for the light to turn green a bicyclist shot out of nowhere and was hit by a car 5 yards from us. It happened so quickly and violently that people screamed and turned away, shielding their kids from what they expected to be seeing. There was a second of absolute silence before the bicyclist got up, picked up his bike and dusted off his clothes. He was completely unharmed. Even his bike did not have a single scratch.

Oh, how sweet the presence of a loving God! What a wonderful Father who longs to be gracious to us! He who rises up to show compassion on a distracted driver and an unknowing bicyclist! Minutes before the crash he called us into his presence. That’s where wonders are born.

Sometimes the Holy Spirit wakes me up at night, because he wants to share something with me or maybe he wants me to pray about it. Praying is a two way street: we both talk, we both listen.

God always reveals himself to me through his word. From his very word new life arises. As I read his love letters to me, his loving heart is created within me. There’s nothing greater.

So what does God sound like?

Like love incarnate.

With your accent.