It was an unnerving season of my life. God had been working in my life through the most peculiar circumstances. They all pointed towards a Calling to the mission field. But I was convinced it was not me. After all, I met none of the presumed qualifications: training, education, experience, travel, multiple languages, not even my health. Yet the continual series of signposts indicated otherwise. I was getting frustrated and even concerned I might be delusional. Everywhere I went, I was running into one word, one name place, one clear message: “Ireland”. I knew I had to go. I knew the Lord was a Calling me. But I resisted…I reasoned it away…I relegated it to something for someone else.

In January of 1999, I found myself on the way to a Christian Conference…my very first. That alone was a milestone for me. I didn’t really want to go. But my friends pestered me and I finally was persuaded. I was, at the very least, a reluctant participant. I likened myself to having the “joy of a Martha”…Jesus might be in our midst at the Conference, but I felt I had better things I could do for Him on my own.

On the drive to the Conference, I had one of those conversations I would never recommend to anyone. I had an argument with God. In short, I told God what He needed to do. Imagine that! If He wanted me to go to Ireland, He would have to “hit me over the head” with such an obvious, overwhelming and convincing sign, that even I could not discount it. For the first time in my life, I laid down a “fleece” for God. Like Gideon (Judges 7.36-40), I asked God to “do the impossible”. The bottom line was this: “God, if You are calling me to Ireland, then have someone I’ve never met before, come and talk to me specifically about Ireland. Now I’m not going to talk to anyone. You have to bring them to me. (Then after a few moments, I raised the bar higher…) And…I need to leave this Conference with a destination…a name, a place, phone number, a real destination in Ireland! No more of this vague stuff! (Then the blasphemous challenge hit a crescendo!)…And, since You’re God, in regard to that person I’m supposed to meet, remember that? Well, it has to be someone from Ireland! How about that?!”

Now I have to say, that I am quite embarrassed, indeed mortified, to admit to such a carnal conversation with the Most High God. Some day I’m hoping to see a video replay of His reaction. Because what unfolded

certainly indicated the conversation did NOT fall on deaf ears. As God’s children, our conversations never do. God knows our prayers even before we pray to Him. Or have the audacity to argue with Him.

“It shall come to passThat before they call,

I will answer.And while they are still speaking,

I will hear.”Isaiah 65.24

I arrived at the Conference and quickly secured my seat as the first session began. After the hour-long teaching, the host decided to close the session with a time of “open prayer”. Everyone and anyone were invited to pray aloud in sequence as the Spirit led. I bowed my head and closed my eyes, mostly anticipating a bathroom break more than a work of the Holy Spirit. Then it happened. A big, booming, bold voice that could shake the rafters proclaimed “Lord Heavenly Father! We come to You this day…” And on went the prayer…in a man’s thunderous Irish brogue!!

I gasped! I put my head in my hands, and went into a full-blown anxiety attack! It was as if the mighty finger of God had been placed on the top of my rebellious little human head. I was sweating profusely, my hands were shaking like a leaf. I couldn’t even raise my head to look up at who was praying...just six rows directly in front of me. I was “busted”!

After the prayers ended, I couldn’t move. My friend, sitting next to me, asked me if I was sick. I must have looked like I felt: full of fear. Holy Fear. I told him to go on, that I needed to stay and speak to someone. He asked me who. I replied, “I don’t know. I heard someone praying up there. He’s from Ireland.” Then God gave me the knockout punch. My friend casually said, “Oh! That’s Pastor Vivian Laird. He’s my spiritual father. Let me introduce you to him!”

It was a most uncomfortable introduction for me. I felt like Paul the apostle, after being knocked to the ground and blinded, then being led on the way to meet Ananias. Within one hour of arrival at the Conference, God did what only He could have done. The answer to my fleece…in flesh and blood...shaking my hand heartily, saying, “Bless you, Bro!” The Irish born Pastor then asked how he could help me. I was tongue-tied.

My friend interjected for me and said, “Paul just told me God’s been talking to him about Ireland, and he wanted to meet you.” To which the Pastor exclaimed, “Well praise the Lord! I’ve been praying for years for someone to go to Ireland! Let’s go to lunch and we’ll talk, Bro!”

And so it began. My fleece answered. A divine appointment delivered. And the signpost of God’s Will confirmed. I left that Conference having met the Irishman. And I left with a name, address, email and phone number of someone waiting to receive me for ministry in Ireland. Another divine appointment set before time ever began, by our All-knowing and All-powerful God. The continuing testimony would take many pages and hours to summarize. But God brought me to Ireland in a miraculous way in just three more months…and brought me a second time with Marcia.

It was on the second mission trip that God spoke to me just as clearly…and He shook me, once again, to my very knees. I remember exactly where I was, what I was doing, and who was nearby. His still, small Voice was now unmistakable…I could now distinguish His Voice from the continuous clutter of my mind and the competing chatter of the world. His message even more earth shattering: “Africa!”

It made no sense. I had no connection to Africa whatsoever. I had just recently secured my first passport to go to Ireland. That was about as adventurous as I imagined I could be. But I was past the days of questioning the certain and sure Voice of the Lord. Within a year, we would be on our first mission trip to Sudan and Uganda. Four months later we would be in Kenya. Another four months and we would be full time missionaries in Nairobi. Hyper-speed by any measure. It was time for Action. The point: “Africa” was His urgent message, but held in reserve. And I never would have heard it, if I had not obeyed God’s answer to my fleece, and His initial Call to Ireland.

Over the years, many people have asked, “How did you know God was calling you to the mission field?” The better question might be this, “How do we recognize God’s voice, from all the other competing voices?” The answer is simple, but not simplistic: test the voice, the message, the urge…against an unchanging and ever trustworthy standard. That standard is the Word of God. Ask the Lord to confirm His message in your regular

Bible reading time. We cannot recognize His Voice unless we have been soaking in His Word. I continue to marvel at how quickly and surely God speaks through His Word when we simply ask, read and listen.

A second consideration: a fleece. Ask God to “show” you in a personal way that you cannot miss or mistake. I don’t casually recommend fleeces…but I don’t despise them either. God has answered my fleeces. Some were requested in times of doubt, others even in times of great faith when I dare not make a mistake. But God does not fancy a frivolous fleece. There is, therefore, one prerequisite I require of myself before “laying out a fleece”: that I am seriously seeking God, and have settled in my heart, in advance, that I will unequivocally DO whatever God answers.

And in that boldness, seek the Lord with all your heart. He is a God who wants us to know His Will.

Then…Just Do It!

It was an unnerving season of my life. God had been working in my life through the most peculiar circumstances. They all pointed towards a Calling to the mission field. But I was convinced it was not me. After all, I met none of the presumed qualifications: training, education, experience, travel, multiple languages, not even my health. Yet the continual series of signposts indicated otherwise. I was getting frustrated and even concerned I might be delusional. Everywhere I went, I was running into one word, one name place, one clear message: “Ireland”. I knew I had to go. I knew the Lord was a Calling me. But I resisted…I reasoned it away…I relegated it to something for someone else.

In January of 1999, I found myself on the way to a Christian Conference…my very first. That alone was a milestone for me. I didn’t really want to go. But my friends pestered me and I finally was persuaded. I was, at the very least, a reluctant participant. I likened myself to having the “joy of a Martha”…Jesus might be in our midst at the Conference, but I felt I had better things I could do for Him on my own.

On the drive to the Conference, I had one of those conversations I would never recommend to anyone. I had an argument with God. In short, I told God what He needed to do. Imagine that! If He wanted me to go to Ireland, He would have to “hit me over the head” with such an obvious, overwhelming and convincing sign, that even I could not discount it. For the first time in my life, I laid down a “fleece” for God. Like Gideon (Judges 7.36-40), I asked God to “do the impossible”. The bottom line was this: “God, if You are calling me to Ireland, then have someone I’ve never met before, come and talk to me specifically about Ireland. Now I’m not going to talk to anyone. You have to bring them to me. (Then after a few moments, I raised the bar higher…) And…I need to leave this Conference with a destination…a name, a place, phone number, a real destination in Ireland! No more of this vague stuff! (Then the blasphemous challenge hit a crescendo!)…And, since You’re God, in regard to that person I’m supposed to meet, remember that? Well, it has to be someone from Ireland! How about that?!”

Now I have to say, that I am quite embarrassed, indeed mortified, to admit to such a carnal conversation with the Most High God. Some day I’m hoping to see a video replay of His reaction. Because what unfolded

certainly indicated the conversation did NOT fall on deaf ears. As God’s children, our conversations never do. God knows our prayers even before we pray to Him. Or have the audacity to argue with Him.

“It shall come to passThat before they call,

I will answer.And while they are still speaking,

I will hear.”Isaiah 65.24

I arrived at the Conference and quickly secured my seat as the first session began. After the hour-long teaching, the host decided to close the session with a time of “open prayer”. Everyone and anyone were invited to pray aloud in sequence as the Spirit led. I bowed my head and closed my eyes, mostly anticipating a bathroom break more than a work of the Holy Spirit. Then it happened. A big, booming, bold voice that could shake the rafters proclaimed “Lord Heavenly Father! We come to You this day…” And on went the prayer…in a man’s thunderous Irish brogue!!

I gasped! I put my head in my hands, and went into a full-blown anxiety attack! It was as if the mighty finger of God had been placed on the top of my rebellious little human head. I was sweating profusely, my hands were shaking like a leaf. I couldn’t even raise my head to look up at who was praying...just six rows directly in front of me. I was “busted”!

After the prayers ended, I couldn’t move. My friend, sitting next to me, asked me if I was sick. I must have looked like I felt: full of fear. Holy Fear. I told him to go on, that I needed to stay and speak to someone. He asked me who. I replied, “I don’t know. I heard someone praying up there. He’s from Ireland.” Then God gave me the knockout punch. My friend casually said, “Oh! That’s Pastor Vivian Laird. He’s my spiritual father. Let me introduce you to him!”

It was a most uncomfortable introduction for me. I felt like Paul the apostle, after being knocked to the ground and blinded, then being led on the way to meet Ananias. Within one hour of arrival at the Conference, God did what only He could have done. The answer to my fleece…in flesh and blood...shaking my hand heartily, saying, “Bless you, Bro!” The Irish born Pastor then asked how he could help me. I was tongue-tied.

My friend interjected for me and said, “Paul just told me God’s been talking to him about Ireland, and he wanted to meet you.” To which the Pastor exclaimed, “Well praise the Lord! I’ve been praying for years for someone to go to Ireland! Let’s go to lunch and we’ll talk, Bro!”

And so it began. My fleece answered. A divine appointment delivered. And the signpost of God’s Will confirmed. I left that Conference having met the Irishman. And I left with a name, address, email and phone number of someone waiting to receive me for ministry in Ireland. Another divine appointment set before time ever began, by our All-knowing and All-powerful God. The continuing testimony would take many pages and hours to summarize. But God brought me to Ireland in a miraculous way in just three more months…and brought me a second time with Marcia.

It was on the second mission trip that God spoke to me just as clearly…and He shook me, once again, to my very knees. I remember exactly where I was, what I was doing, and who was nearby. His still, small Voice was now unmistakable…I could now distinguish His Voice from the continuous clutter of my mind and the competing chatter of the world. His message even more earth shattering: “Africa!”

It made no sense. I had no connection to Africa whatsoever. I had just recently secured my first passport to go to Ireland. That was about as adventurous as I imagined I could be. But I was past the days of questioning the certain and sure Voice of the Lord. Within a year, we would be on our first mission trip to Sudan and Uganda. Four months later we would be in Kenya. Another four months and we would be full time missionaries in Nairobi. Hyper-speed by any measure. It was time for Action. The point: “Africa” was His urgent message, but held in reserve. And I never would have heard it, if I had not obeyed God’s answer to my fleece, and His initial Call to Ireland.

Over the years, many people have asked, “How did you know God was calling you to the mission field?” The better question might be this, “How do we recognize God’s voice, from all the other competing voices?” The answer is simple, but not simplistic: test the voice, the message, the urge…against an unchanging and ever trustworthy standard. That standard is the Word of God. Ask the Lord to confirm His message in your regular

Bible reading time. We cannot recognize His Voice unless we have been soaking in His Word. I continue to marvel at how quickly and surely God speaks through His Word when we simply ask, read and listen.

A second consideration: a fleece. Ask God to “show” you in a personal way that you cannot miss or mistake. I don’t casually recommend fleeces…but I don’t despise them either. God has answered my fleeces. Some were requested in times of doubt, others even in times of great faith when I dare not make a mistake. But God does not fancy a frivolous fleece. There is, therefore, one prerequisite I require of myself before “laying out a fleece”: that I am seriously seeking God, and have settled in my heart, in advance, that I will unequivocally DO whatever God answers.

And in that boldness, seek the Lord with all your heart. He is a God who wants us to know His Will.

Then…Just Do It!

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